


Wolf Blood & Bond

by Crimson_Lines



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU world, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Omega Draco, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 97,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4171596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Lines/pseuds/Crimson_Lines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy thinks that being rejected by his mate and publicly sold off is the worse that can happen to him. That is until he learns the name of the man that now owns him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tribuens Virum

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fan-fiction. No copy write infringement is intended. Harry Potter and all recognizable characters are the property of JK Rowling and associates.

Draco remains unmoving as his husband redresses at the foot of the bed. He purposefully remains naked, lying on the rumpled bed as the other had left him. Draco has learned that attracting attention to himself now will lead to another bout of his husband’s rutting, staying unmoving was his best option and so he remains. His eyes lift slightly to look at the side table where a dagger rests innocuously, just were Lestrange had placed it before exercising his conjugal rights. For a moment, Draco indulges in the fantasy of grabbing the dagger and sinking it into the unprotected nape of his husband’s neck. He thinks of the resistance his hand would feel on the moment of impact before the sharp edge sunk into the flesh. He thinks of the warm blood that would spray and run down the edge of the blade and onto his hand, warm blood that would cool and dry, like the rivulets of blood that run down his thighs and had now dried. He imagines Lestrange turning to him, eyes full of astonishment at the realization that his Omega had stubbed him. Draco can almost taste the satisfaction he would feel. Then, Lestrange grabs the dagger and sheaths it on his belt, and Draco feels like he will cry again as he sees the blade removed from his field of vision.

“Summon Severus and have him clean you up. I want you presentable for the exhibition tomorrow” Lestrange says, looking at the bloodied and bruised blonde. He almost reconsiders his decision to annul his contract, the boy might be barren but he is beautiful. Even bloodied, his face bruised, dark marks running over his flesh, he still manages to look elegantly debouched rather than simply used. Rodolphus still remembers his pleasure at securing Draco as his third mate. He had been dying to mount the beautiful Omega since the moment he matured. He had lied, cheated, and even killed to make sure that Lord Malfoy approved his proposal and no other Alphas stronger than him competed for the boy. And he’d won him. The night of their wedding had been one of the best ruttings of his life.

But now, a few days before the first anniversary of their marriage, he is cutting the boy loose. He wishes he didn’t have to, but he does. He already has one barren mate, his first, ironically the boy’s aunt. Bella had been a beauty on her own right, which was why after it was proven that she could not conceived, he had not rejected her when he had the chance. Instead, he had thought that he could take a second mate, every Alpha is allowed to have three mates if they so choose after all. He decided to keep the beautiful and temperamental Black Heiress. So he mated Albion Wreckheron two years after his mating with Bellatrix. But he was not a fortunate Alpha. Albion did conceive before their first anniversary but miscarried the child. Despite this, by the time Albion had miscarried, a year since their marriage had passed and Rodolphus could not annul the union. It took Albion three more miscarriages and an extremely dangerous pregnancy to produce a child. Izor, who upon maturation presented as an omega and thus could not be named as Heir, was the only living child Albion has produced.

Then, Lucius Malfoy’s precious son, whom all expected to present as Alpha since the Malfoys had not produced Omegas or even Betas in centuries, shocked everyone by presenting as an Omega. And Rodolphus had won him. This time everything would be perfect, he had thought. He had a very young, beautiful mate, from a very strong genetic pool to breed. This one would surely give him a worthy Heir. Alas, it had not been so; his luck turned again and Draco proved barren as well. This time however, Rodolphus cannot indulge in keeping a barren mate tied to him because he is beautiful. He cannot put aside Bellatrix since the law only allows a year of conjugal living before petitioning for an annulment. If the Alpha lives a full year with any mate they are obligated to remain mated until the death of one or the other. Rodolphus cannot wait for any of his mates to die of natural causes; he needs an Heir, if not an Alpha at least a Beta that could inherit, his very position as head of the Lestrange household depends on this. Draco cannot provide this, and so Rodolphus needs a new mate. To obtain the right to mate again, he has to dissolve his union with the boy, there is no way around it. The idea alone makes him want to disrobe and take him again, this might be his last chance to do so after all. Well, if one of the whore houses that will be competing for the boy wins him, Rodolphus will make sure to visit him there, he thinks.

Lestrange hesitates and Draco tenses. He knows the man is considering mounting him again and he waits with bated breath until the older man finally moves away from the bed with a muttered “things to arrange for tomorrow,” before walking out of the room. Draco’s eyes fall shut in relief. Rodolphus had spent the last week visiting Draco as much as he had when they first mated. Only this time, instead of anticipating the visits, as Draco had when he was newly mated to the man, he dreads them. It seems almost inconceivable to Draco that there was a time when the thought of Lestrange had sent shivers of pleasure down his spine and molten desire through his veins. A time when he resented the time his Alpha’s other mates got to bed him while Draco slept alone.

Draco slowly begins lifting himself off the bed, wincing at the agonizing pain running through him. The fact that he does not become aroused by Lestrange’s touch anymore results in the pain he feels at his backside. He just doesn’t get wet for him anymore, which just makes the couplings all the more painful. But that pain is just one among many. His husband’s preferred way to show his displeasure for Draco’s empty womb is through beatings. Draco slowly makes his way to the bathing room in his apartment turning on the water and turning to look at the mirror as the tub filled. He hates to look at himself after his husband _visits_ him. Despite this, he has a morbid fascination that forces him to examine the pattern of bruises, adding every blue, black, and green mark to a metal list that feeds into an avalanche of anger. He almost does not recognize the creature that stares back. He has lost weight, he notes, and there are bruises but those will vanish as soon as Severus gives him the potions.

What he can’t stand is his hair. His beautiful hair that had once cascaded to the small of his back is gone. Rodolphus had taken pleasure in chopping all of it off two days ago in a fit of jealousy at the thought that whoever owned Draco after the _Tribuens Virum_ would get the chance to run their fingers through the silken strands. Now, instead of the beautiful tresses, Draco sports an uneven boyish hair style with uneven strands flying in different directions and one side clearly shorter than the other. He cannot stand to look at his hair, at the insult it represents.

He had managed to spend six months of his marriage happy enough, manipulating his husband into ignoring the fact that month, after month, one heat after another, he had failed to conceive. But his luck had run out. The first beating came when he bled after his seventh month of marriage, indicating that he had yet again not conceived. Since that beating, no cajoling from Draco’s part, no show of submission no matter how humiliating, had calmed the ire of the man that for all intents and purposes owned him. And now, Draco has an even bigger problem. His marriage is being annulled, and instead of being returned to his family, Lestrange has decided to hold a _Tribuens Virum_ , which would allow those with the capital and the brutal strength to compete for Draco, a parody of the competition suitors participated in to win the hand of a noble Omega. But in this case, the competitors need not be approved by the family of the Omega. Anyone with enough money and willing to fight can participate: noble, merchant, or lowlife. This is how most brothels gain noble blooded concubines which sold for the highest of price. The brothels pay fighters to fight and win the dishonored Omega that is given away, and once they win them, they sell the services of the Omega to all who have the money to pay for them, and many are willing to pay since this is the only way they can ever hope to touch a noble blooded Omega. Such a life is a death sentence for any noble Omega.

This is punishment! Draco thinks as he moves quickly, despite the pain, to dress after his bath. Omegas have their hair chopped off and are given away this way when they are unfaithful. It is unheard of to turn a noble Omega into a whore simply because he or she is barren. His father had offered Lestrange compensation in order to allow Draco to return to the Malfoy household. But he had refused. Draco knows why. He has known since before his mating; he sees it in the pleasure burning in Lestrange's eyes when he contemplates Draco's nakedness as he did moments ago. Lestrange might hate him for his uselessness, but he is obsessed with Draco. If he returned Draco to the Malfoys, Draco would be forever beyond his reach. But, should he instead give Draco away to a brothel, he can avail himself of Draco’s body as long as he has the coin to pay for it. Draco is not willing to allow Lestrange the pleasure. He might not be able to stop the _Tribuens Virum,_ but he sure as hell will do everything in his power not to end as a glorified piece of ass sold to the highest bidder. His obsession with Draco’s body has always blinded his mate to Draco’s other attributes, particularly his brain and penchant for manipulation, this is something Draco will make sure he regrets.  

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco quickly moves through the gardens looking for Blaise, the silk tunic that covers his head flying after him as he rushes through the flowered trails. His quick movements are the result Severus visiting and Draco taking a number of potions the disgruntled Beta had given him to heal his wounds. Severus never asked how he had been injured. Draco is sure the man has no need to ask. No one would dare abuse a noble Omega. No one other than said Omega’s Alpha that is. Draco had found out the hard way exactly how extensive the rights of his Alpha over him were after his first beating. He has no legal way of stopping the abuse because in the eyes of the law he does not exist. The realization that he was property and even his death would warrant little more than a slap to the wrist for his husband had made Draco contemplate suicide on his most desperate moments. Before Lestrange begun beating him, Draco had never so much as been spoken to in a raised voice. Going from a pampered little Nobel prince to beaten into unconsciousness had been the most traumatizing experience of his life, until the violent rutting had started soon after.

Draco had been shocked when he presented as an Omega but had not really been anywhere as devastated as his father about the whole thing. At sixteen, he had considered his mother’s life, pampered by her Alpha, kept safe, and living in the lap of luxury and saw very little wrong with it. Even when Lestrange had won his hand a year later, Draco had not been much concerned.

The man was admittedly older than Draco would have preferred his mate to be. At seventeen, Draco had hoped for a young mate; Lestrange was not his preference. Lestrange was two years older than Draco’s father after all, but he was not bad-looking and he was very rich and influential with the Council, in fact, like his father, Lestrange was a Council Member. Another problem that Lestrange had presented and had annoyed Draco more was that he already had not one but two mates. Draco would have much preferred an Alpha that had no other mates. His father had not mated another after his mother, despite the fact that she only produced one child, and that, after years of marriage. Despite the setback, Draco had decided to make the best of the situation. He was beautiful, not an arrogant assumption, a simple fact. Draco was beautiful with a slim but defined body, long legs, and a face that had been called mesmerizing on more than one occasion. He knew he could outshine his Alpha’s other, much older, mates.

And so he had. The first three months of his marriage had been all he had expected from life as the mate of a rich and influential Alpha. People bowed low as he passed and servants run to do his bidding. He could buy anything he fancied, and his husband was so enamored with him that he completely ignored the two older mates to spend his nights pleasuring Draco. His life _would_ have been perfect if only his body had not betrayed him as it had.

Because Draco is barren, a fate worse than death for an Omega. Because of this single fact, he now sees his entire life dismantled before him. His adoring husband turned into a vicious brute that abuses and uses him as if he were a common whore. His father, although trying to help him, cannot hide his immense disappointment. Draco could tell from the last time they’d spoken. Now, he isn’t even allowed to speak to his family or exit the grounds until the day of the _Tribuens Virum_ , at which time he will belong to someone else; he just hopes that someone else does not turn out to be a whore house.

His thoughts make him move even faster, looking for the only person still allowed to visit him. Blaise and he have been best friends since they were children. As they grew, they spoke of mating with each other, there was little doubt that Draco was an Alpha and the Zarbinis were known for producing Omega and Beta males. It would have been perfect. Instead, Draco presented as Omega as well as Blaise. Soon enough, Blaise was matted to Theodore Nott, and he seems more than happy with his Alpha, and Draco…well, Draco has seen better days.

“Hey. How are you holding up?” Blaise says as soon as Draco turns into the gazebo where they usually meet.

“Is everything in order?” Draco asks, ignoring Blaise’s question. The brunet nods hesitantly.

“What?” Draco asks, knowing the look of hesitation on Blaise’s face.

“Well…”

“I swear to all the gods, Blaise! I don’t have time for this. Did you get someone to compete that will win?!”

“Yes, yes. I put the money you gave me, plus Theo gave me another sum to make the pot more tempting. I got two Alpha’s willing to fight to win you and release their claim.”

“But what?” Draco says because Blaise could never hide things from him.

“They aren’t noble.” Blaise said.

“Merchant class?” Draco asks.

“Yes, one of them. Weasley’s the name.”

“I know that name.” Draco says frowning.

“His brothers are pretty well known they own a number of shops…”

“The joke shop Weasleys?!” Draco says aghast. “What would a fucking joke shop owner know about combat in a claiming arena?!”

“The shop keepers are his brothers not him. He is a big man, Draco, strong, and in any event, he isn’t the first one that will be fighting for you. We’ve got another Alpha, Weasley is just a safe guard.” Blaise says quickly.

“Who?” Draco says.

“A friend of Weasley’s. A mercenary.”

“A mercenary? Not even a merchant class man. Oh Gods…” Draco says despairing. He had been an idiot to trust this to Blaise. But what other options did he have? He was locked in this fucking house and the servants run to Lestrange immediately if Draco even tried to set foot outside the place.  

“The man is a trained fighter, Draco. Theo investigated him, he is a vicious fighter, he says.”

“Yea, but I would still prefer a noble.” Draco says.

“What noble will risk his life for the sake of a barren Omega?” Blaise says slightly exasperated.

Draco wants to yell at him that it isn’t his fault that he cannot get pregnant. But what Blaise said is the reality. Noble Alphas competed, sometimes to the death, for the hand of desirable Omegas. But they did not take the same risk to acquire a concubine no matter how beautiful; even less when said Omega has been proven barren. And no trustworthy noble Alpha would need the money that Draco offered enough to risk their lives. Even though Draco had sold all the jewelry he owned to accumulate the amount, it was still modest amount since he had sold it in desperation to whoever would pay him immediately.

“This is the best we can do then.” He says closing his eyes. He will have two competitors in the arena, among dozens of other competitors hired by brothels or other nobles that wanted to acquire a mistress. Although, he should not despair. His father will definitely have a number of fighters competing as well. Lucius might not be able to intervene directly, but he will never allow his name to be besmirched by having his only son turned into a whore without making every effort to stop it.

“What’s the name of the second fighter?” Draco asks Blaise.

“Harry.” Blaise says.

“Harry what?”

“Black. Harry Black.” Draco frowns at the name but there can be no relation to his mother’s family, he is sure.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey mate.” Ron Weasley says to the tall brunet that just walked into his home.

“Everything in order for tomorrow?” Harry asks his friend as they walk into the kitchen and take a sit on the small table in the corner.

“Harry are you sure this is a good idea?” Ron asks for what he feels must be the hundredth time.

“We already got the money.” Harry says, lifting his hand and summoning two mugs and Ron’s home brewed beer.

“We could give it back…” Ron says frowning and taking one of the mugs Harry serves them.

“No, we can’t. We can’t pull out now. They won’t have time to find somebody else to fight for him.”

“What do we care?! You’ll be killed. I’ll be killed. You know no one talks of anything else. Everyone with enough coin is going to fight or hire someone to fight for them. I think every single major whore house will have at least two fighters in the mix. I don’t say he ain’t a good looking Omega but he is barren, what good is he to you?” Ron says his mug lifted half-way to his lips smacks back down on the table.

“I need him to get into the inner circle,” Harry responds and Ron looks at him frowning.“What? What are you looking at me like that for? This was your idea.” Harry says exasperated.

“That’s when we thought you could mate him, which you can’t.”

“Cause he’s barren? I can take a second mate later.”

“It’s not that! Hermione finished her research and we are sure that you won’t be able to mate him. He has a bond with Lestrange and you can’t change that.”

“Lestrange is repudiating him.” Harry says frowning and taking a gulp from his mug.

“That means nothing to the bond of an Omega. Lestrange mounted him first, so unless you kill Lestrange—”

“That can be arrange” Harry interrupts.

“You’ll end up hanged. Lestrange isn’t going to fight in the arena. If you kill him out of an arena, you’ll be charged with murder.” Ron says as if explaining a complicated concept to a rabid dog.

“What other ways are there to bond the Omega to me then?”

“Other than killing its other Alpha? Since he has no children by him, you’d need to get him pregnant.”

“Pregnant? Nothing else?”

“Which you _can’t_ ’cause he is _barren_ ” Ron says very slowly. He looks Harry in the eyes trying to make him see reason. It was a good plan. If Harry mated the son of Lucius Malfoy he’d have access to Riddle’s inner circle, no doubt about it. But, without a formal bonding, there is no possibility of that happening. So, there is no point fighting for the Omega.

“Harry” he says with a sigh. “You want to restore your family. You are the last Potter alive and you are going to fight for an Omega that can’t even have children? You can be killed tomorrow in that arena, think about this!”

“I won’t get killed Ron. I’m not a normal Alpha, I’m the last Potter and I’m a mercenary.”

“There'll be a lot of mercenaries there. I’m not saying that your family magic won’t give you an edge, ’cause I’d be stupid if I said that. But one wrong move and that family ends tomorrow with you bleeding in the sand.” Ron tells his friend.

Harry looks at his friend for a while, seriously considering his arguments.

“I’m fighting tomorrow, Ron. If the bond between the Malfoy kid and Lestrange can’t be broken another way, then I’ll find a reason to challenge Lestrange and kill him. Draco Malfoy is the son of Riddle’s right hand man. Riddle depends on the Malfoy money. If I can formally bond with the little Omega, I can sway his father my way. There are a lot of things to be said about Malfoy senior, most bad, but the man loves his family, and I can use that.” Harry argues back.

Ron looks at his friend for a long moment before gulping down the rest of his beer.

“Fine,” the redhead replies putting his mug back down. “Have you told Sirius what you’re doing?”

“Not yet.”

“You aren’t gonna tell him, are you?”

“No. Better it be a surprise.”

“He hates surprises.”

“I know.” Harry says finishing his own drink.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The arena is full to bursting, Draco thinks as he walks to the raised platform where he is to sit next to his soon to be ex-husband. Lestrange is already there. Bellatrix and Albion sitting on either side of him, while Draco’s sit has been placed further from theirs and on a section lower that theirs on the platform. Draco had hoped he could have watched from a less conspicuous location. But as it was, he had to be _on display_ during the fights.

He sits with his head held high, watching all the peasants and commoners that have gathered to watch the Alphas compete. He has never been as humiliated before in his life. He could not believe that it had come to this, his shame paraded before the gawking masses. He sincerely hopes his father destroys Lestrange for this humiliation and a many other things. He tries to spot Blaise and Theo on the balconies where the nobles had gathered. He knew his parents would not be present for this. It is an affront to their family and they would never have graced this arena with their presence anyway.

“Welcome All to this _Tribuens Virum._ Candidates please step forward” a small man yells standing at the bottom of the platform where Draco sits, his voice is amplified by magic ensuring that all hear him as he speaks. The man quickly begins introducing the men competing for Draco, but Draco barely hears the names the man declares and pays more attention to their status and station. “Alpha mercenary…Beta merchant class…Alpha merchant class…Alpha merchant class…Alpha mercenary…Beta mercenary…Alpha…” they seem to go on forever. Draco is a little surprised by the number of Betas present. They could not possibly expect to survive this with so many Alphas fighting today. “Harry Black, Alpha mercenary…” the man yells, and Draco’s head snaps to the side to see the man he’s hired to save his life.

Harry Black is an Alpha. That’s how Draco can think to describe him. Tall dark and somewhat bulky although not too much. In fact, leaner than the other Alphas that have been presented before him, this worries Draco slightly; although, until he transforms into his wolf form there is no way of saying how physically powerful he is. His hair covers his forehead and almost his eyes. The man feels dark to Draco, it might be that he is wearing a black tunic but Draco thinks it has more to do with the inky black color of his hair. Whatever the case, his last name suits him. _Let’s hope he is good for something,_ is all Draco’s mind whispers. The little man continues to name the men and Draco again pays attention when he reaches the name Ron Weasley. He quickly determines that Weasley is as Blaise described him, a very big man. He has very red hair and a bulky built, a good Alpha specimen Draco supposes. His face is the opposite of that of his friend, open to the world, while the other’s is shut.

The men move around in the arena, and despite the number of competitors the arena is so big that they are not crowded. They begin disrobing, and Draco tenses. Many of the men have scars, some small but others massive, these are seasoned fighters. He turns to look at the two men he has hired, who are undressing close to one another. Weasley has no scars that Draco can see from a distance and Draco turns to look at Black only to note a surprising lack of scars for a mercenary. Draco only hopes that what Theo said about the man being a vicious fighter is true despite his appearance. He is contemplating this when the men begin to transform. The sickening sounds of bones shifting and breaking makes the crowd go silent and then the growling of the now massive wolves is the only sound for a moment, then all hell breaks loose.

Draco takes a sharp breath as the wolves attack one another. The arena’s sand is quickly painted with red that turns a muddy brown as the sand drinks it up. Opponents rip each other to shreds. Most of the fighters have lost all sense of control over themselves. This is to be expected, since almost exclusively the members of the noble houses are the only that possess magic powerful enough to allow them to maintain their senses while in wolf form. And then, Draco sees a large black wolf move away from an opponent and wait? The wolf seems to almost calculate his actions when his opponent snaps at him and exposes his neck. The dark wolf moves out of the way and quickly locks his powerful jaws on the sensitive area and shakes the other roughly until a sickening crack sounds. He drops the body and quickly moves to another side of the arena, where a massive copper wolf is fighting three opponents. Draco is shocked to realize that the black wolf is avoiding other opponents as it makes its way purposefully to the other side of the arena. That wolf, Draco realizes with astonishment... the man inside the wolf is completely in control.

His suspicion is confirmed when the black wolf attacks one of the copper’s opponents quickly disposing of him while the copper wolf takes down the other two. When all opponents are dealt with the two wolves do not attack each other, instead they stay close, _protecting one another_. Draco is sure they must belong to the same pack. There is no other explanation for how they are behaving. The copper is there helping the black wolf as the other had helped him. They are taking down opponents together, and Draco suspects that those two were his hired men. He is sure the raven wolf is Black because he saw him transform before chaos exploded in the arena.

Slowly the arena begins to clear. Many of the fighters have run away far enough from the bloodbath before transforming back and getting out of the arena. Most Betas left the arena almost as soon as the carnage begun, and those that didn’t are the carcasses that have been trampled underfoot. Draco watches, his heart in his throat, as the copper and black wolf corner another massive wolf on one side of the arena. Jaws snap quickly and the sharp canines of the large wolf lock around the hind leg of the copper wolf. The copper tries to snap at the other wolf but can’t seem to reach and then the black wolf’s jaws lock around the nape of the other and pull viciously. The massive wolf makes an agonizing noise before falling to the ground, dead or alive, Draco can’t tell. He watches the two remaining wolves and then the copper lowers his head slightly to the black forfeiting the fight and his possible claim to the Omega before walking slowly away, limping slightly. Draco stares at the black wolf completely astonished. _It worked! The man I hired won…I’m free_ , he thinks watching the dark wolf transform back into Harry Black.

Draco quickly stands as the man walks naked from the other side of the arena until he is standing before Draco. _This is it._ Draco thinks waiting for the words, the words that will set him free. Waiting for the man to give up his claim. Black stops before him, blood dripping from his face, panting slightly, and his eyes, green Draco sees for the first time, catch Draco’s. _Say it!_ Draco wants to scream. Almost there, almost _free._

“I claim you.” The man says, and Draco’s world crashes around him once more.


	2. The Murky Waters

Draco remains completely composed as a Beta with bushy hair presents Rodolphus Lestrange with the documents that will officially separate him from Draco. Lestrange signs the papers with jerky movements. Draco can almost taste his displeasure at having to sign them. It would have been satisfying if Draco himself were not fuming. Harry Black stands next to him, dressed again all except for his over coat which he holds in one hand. He didn’t even bother to clean himself up, he just stands in the small office at the side of the arena with dried blood and dirt staining most of his face and smelling of death.

Once Rodolphus signs the documents, they are passed to Black. The bushy haired Beta looks at the dark haired mercenary for a moment before moving to fill his name in the documents. Harry P… Draco sees before the woman moves and her arm covers what she is writing. Great, he thinks, the imbecile secretary can’t even spell. “She spelled…” he begins fearing that this error might be grounds for his annulment to be considered invalid.

“She corrected it.” The man next to him says quickly, and Draco doesn’t bother to say more. He does not want to talk to the mercenary more than necessary.

Soon enough, Black is signing all pertinent documents, seals are added, and Draco is officially traded from one piece of shit brute to another. Black grabs his arm as soon as it’s all done. He and Lestrange look at one another and Draco can almost feel the desire to kill each other they exude. Of course they would hate each other. Lestrange is accepting the fact that another Alpha is touching his Omega. Because, despite, the official documents sitting on the desk before all of them, the wolf in Lestrange will always see Draco as his Omega, and what Draco resents more, the wolf in him will always see Lestrange as his Alpha. Until the man dies Draco is bonded to him.

“Let’s go.” Black growls pulling Draco roughly with him. Draco hears Lestrange’s angered growls as the doors close behind him and Black.

Black drags him for a long time before stopping seemingly at a random entryway and moving them inside.

“How are you doing Ron?” He says to the man sitting on a medical table while a Healer patches him up. So they were in a clinic, Draco realizes as he looks at the Healer’s magic running around Weasley’s injured leg.

“I’ve had worse.” Weasley says to his friend with a smirk as blue lines sink into his skin and pull the torn flesh back together.

“So you got him, all done?” The redhead asks nodding towards Draco.

“Yes.” Draco expects the man to say more, waiting to see what he can use later, but Black remains silent, moving to the side of the room, his back against the wall and his eyes on the door they came in from.

As soon as the Healer is done with Weasley, they all leave the clinic and make their way quickly away from the center and the arena towards the more residential areas. Then Black grabs his arm again as well as Weasley’s and they are dissaparating. Draco is shocked to land in the middle of a field, probably miles from the city. A mercenary shouldn’t be able to apparate further than a few blocks at a time, especially when side-alonging two more. What the hell is going on, he thinks. But there is no time to ask because he is being dragged to a small stone cottage a few yards away.

“I need to go home. See if Mione got everything set and all.” Weasley says and Black nods at him.

“Will you come by tonight?”

“Yea, we’ll be here. And Sirius?”

“Not back yet.” Weasley nods at this and begins to walk away.

As soon as they walk into the home Draco sharply pulls out of Black’s hold. He turns to look at the man who walks away down a hall only to return a few minutes later with some linen scraps of cloth and a small basin with water. He places them on a small table on the side of the room, he quickly removes his shirt and sits before the basin across from where Draco stands. Black dips one towel in the water and begins cleaning his face.

“You could have used a cleaning charm.” Draco says nonchalantly as he observes the procedure.

“Not the same. They’re especially bad when cleaning blood, leaves the skin all itchy.” The Alpha says as he rubs the towel against one stubbled cheek eyes leveled at the blond.

“So, how much do you want?” Draco asks casually as he leans against the entrance door watching the towel in Black’s hand soak the blood and dirt off his tan skin.

“For what?” Black says continuing his ablutions unhurriedly.

Draco’s head tilts slightly to the side, the only indication that he might be even slightly annoyed.

“To give up your claim. I understand that your compensation for risking your life was not adequate and would like to offer you more.” Draco only hopes the man knows enough words to understand his meaning.

Black puts the cloth in the basin careful not to splash water around the edges. The water turns a soft pick as he washes the cloth before bringing it back to his face.

“How much are you offering?” He asks running the cloth down his neck to his chest and then over his forearms.

“Three-hundred gold coins.” Draco says. It is a respectful amount, not too high but more money than a mercenary will see put together in all his life, and he doesn’t want to start with his best offer. They are going to bargain for this, Draco knows. Black doesn’t need to know how much Draco is truly willing to pay for his freedom.

“That’d keep me happy for a year or so.” Black says putting the cloth back in the water and letting it sink to the bottom of the basin leaning comfortably into his chair and focusing on the other man as if considering the offer. Draco smirks at him.

“But then, so would fucking you.” Black concludes his eyes crudely moving over Draco’s body. Draco’s smirk almost slips but he is good enough at this to keep it in place.

“It’s not modesty speaking when I say that with three-hundred gold coins you can buy a lot more variety than I could ever offer you.”

“I’m of a steady disposition.” Black says, sitting up forearms on the table and looking steadily back at him.

“Four-hundred then?” Draco suggests.

“Why do you want me to give the claim up?” Black says with a smile. “If I were going to, I would have done it already, you already paid me and all.”

“Clearly did not pay you enough. If four-hundred is not enough, give me a number. We can go to my family and have everything done.” Draco says.

“The Malfoys?”

“Yes, the Malfoys.” Draco says, hoping the name will make the man think twice about double crossing him.

Black gets up from the table and moves toward the other side of the room where another hallway begins.

“The bedrooms are on this side of the house. Yours is the last on the right.”

“I’m not staying here.” Draco says adamantly.

“You are.” Black lifts his hand stopping Draco’s come back. “You can’t offer anything I want. I got what I want and I don’t feel like parting with it now. Maybe when I tire of you, we can discuss this again.” He tells Draco.

“We had an agreement!”

“ _I_ agreed to fight for you.”

“And give up your claim!” Draco growls at him.

“No. I never actually said I would do that, your friend just assumed that I would since you were hiring me. But why would I? I’d be stupid to release an Omega as gorgeous as you.”

“I’m barren.” Draco says, and for the first time is glad that it is so.

“Doesn’t make you any less fuckable.” Black responds.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucius Malfoy is furious. He is beyond it. He is so angry the agonizing screams of the man that had failed to win his son and had been stupid enough to come to Lucius to tell him so were not enough to calm him even a little.

Six of the best fighters. _Six._ He had paid a fortune thinking to ensure himself of acquiring Draco. Instead some mongrel no one knew from where had come in and massacred his men and taken his son. Lucius is _incensed_. He went to the court to look up the documents of the transfer of Draco's person to whoever that mongrel is to find out the his name only to find out that no one could locate the documents; not even the horde of corrupt officials Lucius paid off could locate the documents that would reveal who owned his son now.

This is all Lestrange’s fault. The bastard will pay for this. Lucius will make him pay. He cannot attack Lestrange openly since he is a favorite of Lord Riddle’s but he will find a way to chip away at the regard the lord has for the man, and once Lestrange has lost that protection, Lucius is going to shred him to pieces and piss on his remains. The bastard sold his son off like some common prostitute. Made a display of Draco’s incapacity to conceive, making it the running joke among the commons and the nobles alike. Lestrange has made a laughingstock of the name Malfoy.

Lucius had not wanted the man for a son in law to begin with. He already had two mates. Which meant his son would have been the last in the hierarchy of the household. But lord Riddle had been so well pleased with Lestrange at the time that not allowing him to participate as Draco’s suitor would have caused too many problems.

Lucius hadn’t expected him to _win_. But win he did, and so Lestrange took Lucius’s only son, only to abuse and humiliate him. Lucius is well aware of Lestrange’s treatment of his son. Severus reports to him after all. He will die a slow and painful death, Narcissa had told him when they heard Severus’s first report about their son’s health after Draco had been married for seven months. Lucius is in complete consensus with his wife, Lestrange will die, but the priority now is locating Draco and killing the mercenary that claimed him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco had remained in the room Black ordered him to all day, refusing to exit it even for food. How had this happened to him? He could not understand how Blaise could have chosen someone that would turn on them so easily. If at least his father had bothered to appear at the arena, he could have gone to him and Black would not have had the chance to take off with him. Draco considered trying to escape, what were the consequences anyway? Black was a simple mercenary after all. Once Draco was within the walls of Malfoy manor, the man could scream all day about his right to him and no one would pay him any attention.

Draco had tried apparating as soon as he was alone only to discover anti-apparation wards. How was this possible?! How could a mercenary have anywhere near the necessary magical reserves to have wards? Mercenaries were good fighters, true, but they were mercenaries _because_ they could not cast magic at all, most times at least. But as it seems, that’s not the case of Harry Black. He can apparate long distances and cast wards and Draco is not stupid. There is something much more complicated happening here than a simple mercenary wanting to rut with him a few times before asking for more money to release him. This is the problem that Draco needs to solve, what does Black want? If Draco finds this out about the man, he is sure to find a way to make Black do as he wants. But to manage this he needs to interact with the man. So, it is very fortunate in a way that Black walks into his bedroom at that precise moment.

Draco looks at the man standing in the doorway, analyzing him. No, not a regular mercenary, he decides. Too much power, too much arrogance, even for an Alpha, being a mercenary he would have been…more brutish for one. Instead, he is too educated? cautious? measured... Yes, not a stupid man. What else though? A noble’s bastard perhaps? Yes, very possible Draco decides.

“Are you done being _indisposed_?” Black asks him with mock politeness.

“I was not indisposed, simply resting.”

“Standing?” He asks observing Draco’s position by the window.

“Should I lie down?” Draco asks. He is not flirting. But, if Black came to fuck, he isn’t going to fight the man, another beating is the last thing he needs without Severus around to patch him up.

Black stares at him for a moment. “If you prefer,” he says.

Draco remains by the window for a moment before walking towards the bed. He sits at the edge and stares at the Alpha standing a few feet from him. Draco can already taste the pheromones Black is exuding.

“Are we going to fuck now?”

“What’s your name?” Black asks apropos nothing.

 

“Draco.” Draco says after a moment. The man didn’t even bother to find out his name before risking his life? Well, he knew he’s a Malfoy and he fought for the money, so maybe it wasn't that preposterous.

 

“Why did you fight for me?” Draco asks hoping a direct question might get a direct response.

 

“You hired me.” Black says with a mocking smile and walks closer to Draco. Draco looks at Black as a callused hand caresses his cheek and moves down to rest on the pulse at his throat.

 

“You are truly…” Black says and his arousal is almost chocking Draco.

Draco pulls his face away from the other’s hand but shifts to spread his thighs open. Black stares at him for a moment.

 

“Get it over with.” Draco tells him.

 

“I’m not going to rape you.” Black says with a slight frown, and Draco can’t help it; he laughs.

 

“What did you think we were going to do? _Make love_?” He asks the older man.

 

“We aren’t doing anything today. I’ll mount you when you’re in heat.” Black says and Draco wants to kill him. The Omega's body goes rigid and no matter how much he wants to he cannot release the tension. For a moment all he can hear are his pleas for Lestrange to help him through his heat. For a moment all he can see is the satisfied look on his husband's face as Draco crawls to him begin for relief.

 

“Typical Alpha,” he tells the man before him. “You think it’ll be less rape when I’m out of my mind and begging to be fucked?” he snaps.

 

“I think we will both enjoy it more then, than we would now.” Black replies.

 

“I’ll enjoy the cock, maybe. But it’ll have nothing to do with you!” Draco tells him and Black bursts out laughing.

 

“When you beg me to fuck you, your hole dripping from needing it, I’ll make sure to remember that it’s not personal.” He responds still chuckling.

 

Draco tries to calm himself, trying to regain some control of the conversation, but it’s hard. Lestrange had used his heats to humiliate him, making Draco do anything, say anything, for the sake of getting release at least once. Draco is not keen on relieving the experience of begging on all fours for an Alpha to fuck him. Why? Why if he is barren does he have to suffer heats? For other Omegas heats were the time when they were most likely to conceive and mating during heat was mind-blowing. Had been for him too the first few heats during his marriage. But Draco had learned over the past few months how his heat could be used against him, there had been no other time when he had wished Lestrange dead more than during his heats, while he keeled, crying, and begging the bastard to mount him. He is not willing to relive that.

 

No. His heat is only a few days away, but he cannot be here when it starts. He’ll find a way out of this house and back to the Manor before it starts, he has to.

 

Harry observes the young blonde that has tensed on the bed. Draco Malfoy is what he had expected in many respects. Ron had called him a good-looking Omega, but that did not begin to describe how attractive the boy is. In all his twenty-five years, Harry had not met an Omega with so much magnetism as the blonde before him had. Yes, he is a high class prince as well, spoiled, and pampered. He is clever, but his temper is too close to the surface. He tried to be smooth, looking for what Harry wanted, trying to manipulate him and he could do it too, so Harry will have to keep his guard up. But that temper. The boy will not manage much without learning to hide his feelings, Harry knows because he had to learn it too.

 

Another thing he has learned is that Draco Malfoy is afraid of sex. It was written all over his tense body, his nails digging into the light sheets and his reaction to Harry’s determination to wait until he goes into heat reveals much more than Harry suspects the blonde wanted him to know. It is no surprise really. Lestrange must have been furious with the boy and the man’s reputation is that of a vengeful bastard. Hurting the boy in bed would have been the first thing he would go for. Harry had suspected that might be the case and having it confirmed strengthened his determination to wait until the young man goes into heat.

 

If there was any possibility of Harry breaking the bond between the Draco Malfoy and his previous Alpha, it was during his heat. Beyond that, Malfoy will not be able to trust enough without the help of hormones to allow Harry to mount him without making the experience painful. Harry takes a surreptitious sniff and makes sure not to show his satisfaction at what he discovers. The boy is close to his heat, a few days from it, Harry calculates. He’ll have to watch him, because if he is reading Malfoy well, the young man will be doing everything to get out of here before his heat starts. 

 

“If you are hungry, the kitchen is down the other hallway, where I walked to when we got here.” Harry tells the fuming man sitting on the bed before turning and exiting the room.

 

“Harry” he hears as soon as he walks into the small living room. Hermione is sitting there, her hands holding tightly onto a folder, and next to her Ron sits across from Sirius.

_Shit._ Harry thinks realizing that he has to deal with Sirius now.

 

“Had a nice trip?” Harry tries and his godfather growls at him.

 

“You fought for the Malfoy bitch?! Harry, I swear...” Sirius says, standing and walking back and forth in the small sitting room.

 

“You think it’s easy to stay hidden?” He asks his godson.

 

“This is a great opportunity and you know it.”

 

“It wasn’t the time!”

 

“It’s not like I could ask them to postpone the _Tribuens Virum_ , and don’t yell he’s down the hall.” He says raising his hand and indicating toward the bedrooms.  

 

“How are we supposed to hide who we are from him Harry?” Sirius asks.

 

“Once he’s mated to me—” Harry begins.

 

“You can’t mate him!” Sirius yells. “Hermione already told me. You fought for a barren Omega and its Alpha is very much alive.”

 

“Lestrange can be dealt with if necessary.”

 

“Har—”

 

“The plan is solid” Ron interrupts. “Even if Harry can’t bond him officially, he’s still got a legal claim to him. We’ve got the papers to prove it.”

 

“The ones Hermione smuggled out? The ones we need to hide so that no one will see the last name _Potter_ stamped all-over them?” Sirius asks them.

 

“Those need to be kept hidden so tell me what good they are?” Sirius asks and Harry looks at Hermione.

 

Hermione clears her throat before responding. “They have to be hidden, and are next to useless anyway. Lucius Malfoy won’t respect any claim to his son that’s not set in stone, so it has to be a bond or nothing. I have not found much about dissolving bonds when both parties are alive. An Omega conceiving by another Alpha, when he doesn’t already have any children with its Alpha, is the most common way to break the bond after the obvious one of killing the Alpha and taking the Omega.”

 

She continues looking at the men that are listening attentively to her explanation. “That being said, there have been instances when a bond dissolved and I have yet to figure out what caused that so…I guess Harry could still bond with Malfoy. I’m just not sure how.”

 

“It can’t be undone. He’s here now.” Harry says looking at his godfather. No matter how much Sirius wanted to protect him, Harry could not spend the rest of his life hiding. He wanted his family restored, his home rebuilt, and the Potter name succeeded to his heirs. And he wanted Riddle dead. More than anything, Harry wanted the man that destroyed everything he had in the world dead and he wasn’t willing to wait for Riddle to die of old age.

Sirius is ready to respond but quickly shuts his mouth as they all hear the sound of the door clicking open down the hall.

 

“Well.” Sirius says when Malfoy walks into the sitting room. Harry tries not to smirk. His godfather has an eye for appreciating pretty things, and Draco is a very pretty thing.

 

“At least you’ll have a good time trying to bond him to you.” His godfather says and Malfoy tenses.

 

“I already have a bond.” The blonde says. Harry feels like yelling at his godfather. He didn’t want Malfoy to know that he was not going to let him go free, ever.

 

“Are you hungry?” He asks the Omega annoyed with the situation.

 

“No.”

 

“Then why are you out?”

 

“I did not realize the bedroom was my cell. Am I not allowed out unless I require sustenance?”

 

“Don’t pay attention to him kid. I’m Sirius. Ron you already met and that’s his mate Hermione.”

 

Draco turns to look at the people sitting on the couch. He had met both of them actually. So, the bushy haired Beta was Weasley’s mate. That was interesting considering she was the one to arrange the documents that made him property of Black; Draco never believed in coincidence. What had he gotten himself into he wonders. 

 

He needs to get out, he thinks, especially now that he knows Black wants to bond with him. It makes sense. If the mercenary managed to bond him, he would have all the Malfoy fortune, not just what Draco offers him. He would essentially catapult himself to the highest levels of society, but it was impossible. Draco was bonded to another and when the mercenary idiot realizes he can’t do as he wants, Draco will suffer. He is sure, and he wants to get out before it happens.


	3. Bond

Draco is burning as he runs in the darkness. The grass makes his steps silent as he moves, trying to get far enough from the wards to apparate. It has been four days since the _Tribuens Virum,_ and he has had no opportunity to leave the house until tonight.

The past few days have been an exercise in frustration. Black would not let him out of his sight unless he was in his appointed bedroom. When Black was not around, Sirius, who Draco gathered was Black’s uncle, he wasn’t sure, watched over him. When they were gone, then Weasley came to _visit_. Point being, he was under surveillance at all times and the house, unpresumptuous as it is, is warded like a fucking fortress. Draco had always been talented at constructing and dismantling charms, but the wards were blood based and were being fed so much magic that it was like trying to open a high security bank vault with a toothpick. He suspected both Sirius and Black were feeding all the magic they had into the wards along with using some stolen magical artifact that amplified magic, because any other explanations would be preposterous. What they have to hide that requires that kind of magic is something Draco is sure he is better off no knowing about.

The situation was becoming more and more difficult as Draco’s heat approached. Trapped in a house with two Alphas the tension had been palpable until Sirius had decided to go for a _trip_ for the next few days, which was Draco’s hint that he needed to bail if he did not want to spend the next three or four days alone with Black while in his rampaging heat. In his desperation, Draco had waited until he heard the shower running and then made a dash for the front door hopping he could run to the limits of the wards and apparate from there before Black realized he was gone.

As he runs, Draco feels the wards weakening and knows he is getting close to the end of the property. He pushes his legs to move faster but it’s almost impossible. He is shaking with the need to take his itchy clothes off and let his skin feel the cool air. He is hot, shaky, and the wetness running down the back of his thighs makes him shiver in slight disgust. Above all, he feels empty, cavernous. He wants to stop running, he wants to howl, to call out until an Alpha hears him.

 _Concentrate, concentrate, just a bit more_ , he chants in his head. But the chant is disrupted when he is tackled onto the dirt, a body landing on him heavily. He had been so worked up about reaching the property limits he had not even sensed the person trailing him.

“Get off.” He growls as he smells Black’s fresh scent. Only to moan as the man’s body presses into his, an obvious erection pressing into his clothed backside. His eyes widen when he realizes that Black is naked and wet from his shower.

“Oh gods. You’re naked,” he moans, pressing his face to the ground.

“Putting clothes on seemed unnecessary, considering what we’re going to do.” Black says as he lifts and begins pulling at Draco’s clothes, ripping his shirt and pulling his pants and underpants along with his shoes off quickly. Draco wants to be cool about it, but his hindbrain has taken over. He is actively _helping_ Black get him naked because Black’s skin feels heavenly, and Draco _needs_.

 _Fuck now, now, fuck, take, yes, need, want, more_ is all his brain can concentrate on. As soon as his clothes are dealt with, he turns in the circle of Black’s arms, he grabs the back of the Alpha’s neck and pulls him closer. He hears Black’s satisfied growl before the Alpha starts licking his throat; Draco tilts his head back allowing it to roll onto his shoulders to give the other more access. He feels Black’s large hands on his knees pulling them apart, and Draco spreads them as far as they’ll go exposing himself to the coolness of the night.

Both Draco and Black moan as Black pushes him to lie on his back and their erections come into contact when the Alpha lies between Draco’s thighs. Black presses his erection hard into Draco’s, making the Omega lift his backside of the grass to return the favor. Draco feels fingers grab his short hair, pulling roughly to lift his head and Black’s tongue assaults his mouth. Without hesitation he opens his lips kissing back, his tongue twisting and licking until saliva runs down his chin, but he does not care. Black quickly moves down, licking and biting along the way until his head reaches Draco’s erection. Black ignores the small cock that cries with need in favor of Draco’s wet opening.

Draco screams into the night as a rough tongue enters him, his back arching like a bow off the ground.

“You taste so good.” Black says kissing and biting Draco’s inner thigh.

Draco growls and pushes himself across the grassy patch he lies on closer to Black’s face asking for the man to concentrate on his needy hole again. Black growls and flips Draco on his stomach. Draco lifts onto his knees and elbows and smashes his face into the grass and dirt, screaming as he feels Black’s tongue inside him again.

Black licks, and bites, and sucks and Draco wants it to never end, but at the same time, he wants more. He feels empty, deprived of so much more that the Alpha pleasuring him could give him. He wants to ask for it but can’t remember how to form syllables, much less words. His desperation makes him moan and rock back and forth, pushing his backside into the man’s face.

Draco rubs his forehead into the grass and dirt. Until today, he had never even walked barefoot on grass, only feeling it under his paws when in wolf form, and now, he is naked in an open field, his mouth open and saliva running down his chin, his fingers and toes digging into the grass until they buried themselves into the moist earth beneath. Even in the most abusive moments Draco had experienced, he had always been surrounded by scented silken sheets, but now, his nipples rub against a patch of grass and his nostrils are full with the scent of fresh earth and Black’s arousal, and Draco has never been more turned on, more _ready_.

Black moves to cover Draco’s body with his own, his arousal lying heavily on the small of Draco’s back a moment and then Draco feels pressure as Blacks slides in in a single thrust. Black growls, his head falling onto Draco’s shoulder as he begins to thrust into the blond. Black doesn’t give Draco time to adjust before he speeds up, but Draco doesn’t need it. He is so wet that the Alpha moves inside him easily; as Black speeds up, Draco’s hips snap back into each of the other’s thrusts.

Draco pushes as forcefully as he can into the other, his teeth biting his lower lip until it’s bloody. Both whimper and growl as the coupling becomes fiercer. Harry pushes up onto his knees, his hands grabbing the Omega’s hips, and looks as he slides in and out of the blond mesmerized. Draco arches his back, his hips tilting up to meet Harry’s, his back glowing in the pale light of the moon. Harry falls back onto the blonde to pepper kisses over the unblemished skin of the blond’s nape desperately before biting hard into the soft skin making the other scream.

Draco pushes the heels of his palms onto the ground and lifts himself up onto his arms as his orgasm rushes through him. The sting of Black’s teeth on his nape along with the engorged shaft inside him drive him over the edge until he is shaking uncontrollably. His arms can’t hold him for long and he falls back onto his elbows while the Alpha continues to thrust into him, teeth still savagely biting into his nape. Weakly, Draco continues to push into Black’s thrusts, whining from over stimulation, his breath stuttering with every inward thrust of the man above him. His instincts tell him to continue despite having orgasmed until the other finally pushes harshly into him; the knot at the base of Black’s shaft stretching Draco painfully as it forms. Draco feels the knot forming before he feels the pooling heat of Black’s essence inside him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco lies shaking on the bed, attempting to recover from his latest orgasm. His entire body is thrumming almost painfully and his abused entrance throbs with every beat of his heart. It’s been three days since he’s escape attempt. He does not remember returning to the small house, only waking in his bed wet and ready for another rutting, which the mercenary quickly provided. Since then, they had done little more than rut.

Draco had been reduced to the point of tears from desperation and exhaustion as his heat drove the punishing pace for both him and Black. As he shakes now, a film of cooling sweat covering his entire body, he turns his head to look at Black who’s lying next to him breathing harshly, one arm thrown over his face.

Draco cannot believe they’ve lasted this long. His entire body feels beyond sore. Yes, he’s had heats before and had been married for a year, but he had never rutted non-stop for _days_ before. Lestrange had attended to him during his heats, especially at the beginning of their marriage, but he was older, had two other mates to see to, and had many responsibilities as a Council member and servant to Lord Riddle, all this meant that Draco would spend hours waiting for his husband between their fucks when he was in heat. That was not the case with Harry Black. The man seemingly had nothing better to do that rut with Draco, to the point that he’s had to carry Draco to the bath and kitchen because Draco was too shaky to even walk.

A small smirk decorates Draco’s face as he stares at the man gulping breaths next to him. Clearly, Draco was not the only one that felt the consequences of their activities. Black looks on the brink of heart failure. The thought makes the blonde snicker, and Draco is glad to feel this again. In the past few months, he had forgotten that sex could ever feel pleasurable. He remembered orgasms but the memory of pain was so overwhelming that even when alone he had not been able to become arouse enough to masturbate. The last few months of his marriage had made everything carnal directly associated with pain and humiliation. He did not think that spending his heat rutting with a mercenary, of all things, would make him comfortable in his own body and with his sexuality again. He was glad to discover this.

“How are you feeling?” Black asks him, not moving his arm from his face.

“Fucked.” Draco responds, and Black chuckles.

“So do I. But, what I mean is you smell like your heat might be ending, is it?”

“Are you hopping it is?”

“I’d take you again if I thought you wouldn’t faint on me.” Black tells him finally moving his arm and looking Draco in the eyes.

“That happened once!” Draco says mock indignantly. “I was hungry and got dizzy that’s all.”

Draco slowly turns toward the Alpha and kisses the man, pushing his tongue through unresistant lips. He feels Black’s large hand come to rest on his hip and pull him closer and Draco drapes one long leg over the other’s thigh, pushing the heel of his foot into the small of Black’s back and bringing him closer. Draco blindly dips his hand between their bodies until he grasps Black’s shaft pulling at it until the Alpha is erect again, then positioning it at his entrance.

“I won’t faint.” He says between kisses. Black smiles against his lips as he pushes his hips forward, embedding himself into the heat of the Omega once more.

This time the haze of Draco’s heat has lifted enough that they aren’t pressured by instinct to push the pace. They move slowly enjoying the heat created by their arousal. They continue to kiss, Black’s tongue pushing into Draco’s mouth. Draco's fingers find the wild hair on Black’s head and get entangled there.

“Sooo good.” Draco moans as the Alpha gives up his lips in favor of the tender column of flesh Draco presents him when he tilts his head back. Draco pushes into the other man as he feels the knot forming inside him, he feels the warmth of Black’s seed again as his own orgasm soon follows, and he smiles.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey” Ron says uncomfortably when Harry appears at the front door. Instead of asking Ron in, Harry walks out and closes the door behind him. He is well aware that the entire house reeks of sex and arousal, which would be an uncomfortable atmosphere for two Alphas to sit in. Draco is asleep now and even if he wakes, Harry doubts he’ll have the energy to crawl anywhere much less run.

“So…Considering how well fucked you look… and smell…” Ron stops.

“Yea.” Harry says.

“So, do you two have a connection? Did you manage to bond with him?” Ron asks.

“No.” Harry says not quit managing to hide his disappointment. His rutting with Draco had been beyond amazing but no connection beyond the physical had resulted from it.

“Well, Mione had warned that it wouldn’t be that simple.” Ron tells him.

“I know, but there’s something strange about him.” Harry replies as they continue to walk and Ron looks at him expectantly.

“Like what?” The redhead asks.

“Like…He didn’t mention Lestrange’s name once. And you know how mated Omegas carry their Alpha’s scent even when the Alpha’s away?” Ron nods.

“Well, have you smelled another Alpha when you’ve been around him?” Harry asks.

“No. now that you mention it…” Ron says frowning.

“When he went into heat, he should have been calling out to his Alpha. The Alpha’s scent on him should have increased… but none of that happened. He smelled just like himself, as if he’s not mated.”

“Fucking hell. You don’t think…It’s not possible. He had a formal ceremony and lived with the man for a year; it’s not possible that Lestrange didn’t mount him.” Ron says.

“No, he definitely did have sex with Lestrange. I’m just not sure he _bonded_ with him.”

“We need Remus.” Ron says with determination.

“Yea. I’ll write to Sirius to tell him to bring Remus back with him. There’s something going on with Draco, and it might be what will allow me to bind him to me.” Harry says as they move on.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rodolphus is in a horrendous mood. Albion had avoided his Alpha as much as possible in the past few days, allowing the man to vent his frustration on the servants and any other fools that approached him. Everyone knows what's bothering him. Albion frowns as he sits in the terrace thankfully alone since Bellatrix is once more visiting the Riddle manor. No one could convince Albion that Lord Riddle had not taken Bella as his mistress. What other mated Beta without a governmental appointment visited the Lord so frequently or for such extended time?

But this had to borne. Lord Riddle is Lord Riddle and not even Rodolphus can refuse him anything. If Albion is honest, he would admit not to care one way or another if Bella is fucking the man. In fact, it created fewer problems for him because at this point he is in a way Rodolphus’s only mate, which is what had the man in such tempestuous mood.

Albion takes a sip of his tea as he considers his Alpha. The man is choking on jealousy at the thought that the little bitch he rid himself of is at this time of the month in heat and with all certainty getting fucked by whomever claimed him or whoever had enough coin to pay for him. Albion understood that no Alpha liked to know that an Omega or Beta that had previously been theirs alone is fucking another. Rodolphus gritted his teeth about Bellatrix because challenging Lord Riddle would be suicide, but to know that some muggy half-breed low life was mounting his pretty little Malfoy slut is really driving him insane. Albion smiles as he thinks of the little Malfoy’s fate, it had all worked out so nicely in the end, he thinks, lowering his cup and caressing the bump on his midsection. He is carrying again and was sure this one will be born alive and be an alpha or a beta.

Rodolphus will finally give him the place he deserves for being his only mate that has given him children, Albion is sure. Albion always knew he was nowhere as beautiful as Bella, a member of the group known as the _Three Stars_ , the nickname given to the three Black sisters when they entered society. He had never fooled himself into believing that Rodolphus Lestrange mated him out of desire. No, it was necessity that pushed Rodolphus to choose Albion. Albion is fine with this, there is balance in their household. Bellatrix is the exotic beauty and Albion the mate that produced the heirs. It is fine, except that almost twenty years of marriage had only produced one Omega and Omegas cannot inherit. And then came Malfoy.

Albion had known Malfoy was his undoing as soon as he saw the boy during the engagement celebration after Rodolphus had won Malfoy’s hand. The boy combined all that he and Bella offered Rodolphus in a single body with the added advantage of youth. He is beautiful beyond compare and young enough to produce an heir as Albion and Bella had both failed to do. Rodolphus’s obsessive fascination with the boy only confirmed what Albion already knew, that Malfoy would take everything and leave Albion in the dust.

So, Albion had thought it prudent to safe guard his position. He secured it by feeding Malfoy a strong dose of _Ventris Soffocatum_ on the wedding banquet. The potion had done its job fabulously, turning the pretty Omega barren and events had unfolded from there. The potion is untraceable after twenty four hours of ingestion, and so, no exams conducted on Malfoy as the months passed without him becoming pregnant revealed anything.

Albion did not hate the boy, and would have preferred if Rodolphus kept him or returned him to his family. Barren, Malfoy was no thread to him, and he feared that he might need to worry about Rodolphus acquiring yet another mate. But, fortunately, he had conceived again, and if he managed to produce an heir now, Rodolphus would have no need for another mate. In the end, things turned out quite nicely indeed. Malfoy gone, Bellatrix whoring herself to Lord Riddle, and Albion occupying the position of first, if not only mate, of his Alpha, quite nicely indeed.  


	4. What's in a Name

Draco stares at the shaggy looking Beta that examines him. He knows why Black had asked someone to have a look at Draco. He is not an imbecile to miss the facility with which he had allowed Black to mount him the first time in the field. Now that Draco looks at the event more calmly, he considers that it is more than a little strange how out of control he was from the very start of his heat.

Usually, Omegas that are mated gain more control over their heats. Unmated Omegas, on the other hand, are constantly guarded by their families because when in heat they will allow any Alpha to take them; the unmated Omega simply loses control. Draco had never before considered that his reaction to his heats had not changed after his marriage. During his heat the only Alpha he came in contact with was Lestrange, and so, he had not been able to compare his reaction to any other Alphas as opposed to his husband. Now, after the way he reacted to Black, he wonders whether his mating to Lestrange was ever valid.

“Well…” Remus says tiredly as he removes the crystals from Draco’s forehead, chest, and belly bottom.

Draco remains lying on his bed looking at the skinny Beta. He is glad that the others had allowed him to be examined privately, although he is sure the Beta will be reporting to them as soon as they are done here.

“I’m not bonded, am I?”

“No. You are not.” Draco looks at the man for a moment, attempting to bring his shock under control.

“How is it possible? I…my husband mounted me, Black mounted me…How can I…shouldn’t I have bonded to either one of them?” He asks as he rises to a sitting position.

“Well, not necessarily to Harry.” The man responds as he puts away the crystals carefully. Draco looks on as the Beta gathers all his medical instruments.

“Why not him?” The Omega asks.

“Ahem.” Remus says uncomfortably, and Draco would have felt the same if this situation weren’t as bizarre as it is.

“As I understand it, you and Harry did not mate in wolf form.” Remus explains and Draco remains unmoving. Did not mate in _wolf_ form. He and Black _did not_ mate in wolf form, he and Lestrange _did not_ mate in wolf form either.

“With your husband did you…?”

“Of course.” Draco replies calmly. It was not always necessary to mate in wolf form to achieve a bond. In fact, it was rare that the mating of the wolves became a necessity. Unless the Omega was very headstrong or opposed to the match. Draco did not believe that he had feelings against Lestrange strong enough to warrant his wolf rejecting the man when they married, but now he isn’t so sure.

“So, you and your husband…”

“We had sex while in our wolf forms, yes.”

“Well then, I just don’t understand.” Remus says frowning.

“Can an Omega reject and dissolve a bond after it’s formed?”

“Not that I’ve heard of, no. Betas are sometimes capable of breaking a bond with an Alpha but Betas rarely manage to form bonds to begin with, and when they do, they are far weaker than those formed by Omegas.”

“They are lucky.” Draco tells him, thinking of the things he had to endure thinking himself bonded to Lestrange.

“I don’t believe so. When an Omega and an Alpha form a bond, it is something symbiotic that creates such powerful magic that those that have not experienced it cannot possibly imagine it.” Remus replies as he gets up and moves towards the door. He turns to look at the young blonde sitting on the bed and smiles before leaving the room.

Remus walks into the sitting room to find his mate and Harry waiting for him. “His husband never mated him in wolf form.” He tells them feeling a little guilty for revealing this when the boy had obviously not wanted to have it known.

“So, he is not mated and if I take him in wolf form he’ll bond to me?”

Remus nods. “There’s no question about it.” He says.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He must be magically powerful, more so than Lestrange, maybe even more than you.” Sirius says as he and Harry sit in the kitchen after Remus leaves.

“He must be.” Harry says and leans backwards in his chair. “He’s also not stupid. He won’t transform into his wolf form now he knows I can bind him to me if he does.”

“Maybe he hasn’t realized?”

“Why lie to Remus then? He knows.”

“We could force a change?” Sirius says slowly, hating even the idea of suggesting it. Harry grimaces at the thought.

“No, that’s…The potions make the change too painful. I’m not going to torture him.”

“Then find a way to convince him to transform.”

“He doesn’t want stay here. He’s not going to do it.” Harry says exasperated with the situation.

“Then we’re back at the beginning because you can’t bond with him and he won’t stay otherwise, and Lucius Malfoy won’t even consider turning against Riddle unless he has no choice.” Sirius says, getting up and walking out his frustration in the small space.

“Maybe we’ll bond eventually without the transformation.” Harry says.

“You already rutted during his heat and nothing happened, and he was married for a year and nothing happened. Maybe he has to be in wolf form, in which case…”

“Fuck” Harry supplies his fist hitting the table and making the tea cups rattle. Sirius wholeheartedly agrees.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco wakes up slowly and his eyes focus on the mope of dark hair close to his face. Harry Black is still asleep, which is rare. Usually, he is awake long before Draco. It has been close to two months since the _Tribuens Virum,_ but things have changed very little. Draco has discovered that they are in the southern coast of Eliria in a small village called Rameis Port. The fact that they had apparated such a distance from the capital, more than one thousand and seven-hundred miles, convinced Draco that Harry Black is not a mercenary by birth. Draco is not sure what else is happening. He has learned that Sirius is Harry’s godfather, Sirius’s last name is a mystery still. Draco knows Harry needs him, Draco, for something, but he is not so sure it is just about financial gain.

Harry Black and his little band of friends are hiding something and Draco wants more and more to find out what it is.

He and Harry have reached a stand still. He will not, under any circumstance transform into wolf form, and Harry refuses to let him go. He is glad Harry allows him out of the house and all the way to the small town, after setting a number of charms on Draco that prevent him from apparating, of course. Draco had not tried too hard to break them before giving up.

His hand slowly rises to caress the scar on Harry’s forehead. Harry told him he got the scar in an accident as a child. Draco slowly traces the scar considering his situation. He could have escaped if he really tried. He misses his family and feels guilty thinking they might be worried but…He is happy? He isn’t sure but something like it. Harry and he live as if mated. Since Draco’s first heat, they share a bedroom even on the nights they don’t rut. Harry always sleeps by his side, which is confusing. Lestrange never stayed to sleep with him after, yet every night, whether they'd rutted or not, Harry throws a heavy arm around his middle and goes to sleep next to Draco. Surprisingly, Draco is not bothered by it.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks keeping his eyes closed as he feels Draco’s fingers caress the scar.

“I’m thinking…” Draco says before leaning in to give the marred skin a kiss.

Harry’s eyes open as the blonde pulls away and they look at each other.

“I want you to bond with me.” The Alpha tells the rumpled blonde.

“I will not.”

“Draco—” Draco pushes Harry until he is lying on his back and the younger man climbs on top of the brunet.

“When you tell me what’s really going on, I might reconsider.” He says looking at the man lying beneath him. He feels Harry’s large hands on his hips and slowly making their way to the round globes of his backside.

“Don’t change the subject.” Draco says as the hands caress his naked backside dipping between the globes, finding his entrance.

“Harry…!” Draco moans as two fingers enter him, dropping his head on the other’s chest. Draco peppers the skin beneath his lips with kisses rocking back and forth against the brunet, rubbing his small erection leisurely against Harry’s.

“We’ll talk about this later.” He warns the brunet before letting go of the issue.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We have a problem.” Hermione says as soon as Harry opens the door. Draco and Sirius are having lunch in the kitchen and Harry is ready to invite her in, but the Beta shakes her head and moves away from the house. Harry follows her quickly.

“What happened?” He asks as they walk further away.

“We run out of time. Blaise, Malfoy’s friend, got tired of our excuses and finally went to Lucius Malfoy and told him about hiring you and Ron.”

“Shit!” Harry curses pushing his fingers into his hair.

“They’ve arrested Ron on some bogus charges and they’ve shut down the Weasley shops, something about contraband merchandise.” She continues anger vibrating in her voice.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Harry…”

“It won’t take him long to find us.” He says.

“No it won’t, and he will recognize Sirius and you as well. You look too much like your father…”

“I need to bond Draco before I meet with Lucius.” Harry says, looking into the distance as if expecting Lucius and his men to appear any second.

“I know. But we don’t have any more time to wait.” She tells him, pulling a small vial from the pocket of her brown cloak. She hesitates only for a moment before offering him the potion.

“Hermione.” Harry says, looking at the yellow liquid inside the crystal vial, his features stern as he examines it.

“We don’t have time. They will jail George and Fred as well and…Harry they might execute any of them. We can’t wait for Draco to make up his mind.” Harry still does not take the potion. Hermione grabs his arm and pushes the potion into his palm.

“Either give it to him or set him loose and let him go back to his father.” She says. Her features are stern, determined, and exhausted. She’s afraid, Harry can see it clearly spelled in every line on her face that had not been there yesterday.

Harry looks at her. Her determination that he do this, what amounted to one of the most violating actions known to any and all. To force a transformation, to force a bond. Hermione, one of the most morally upright persons he ever met, stood before him pushing the potion into his hand. Because of Ron, Harry thinks. Her mate might be executed, his friend and other members of the family that had helped and protected him, were in danger because of what he had done. Harry’s fingers wrap around the vial. Hermione is right, they’d run out of time.

“When did they arrest Ron?” He asks.

“This morning at George’s shop.” She tells him.

“Go with Sirius to Remus’s. Stay there. If you go back to your house, they’ll arrest you too.” He tells her and she nods.

“I’m sorry Harry.” She says before moving toward the house to get Sirius.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco sits staring at Harry, the atmosphere is tense in the silence of the house. Draco takes a deep sip of his tea, and slowly moves the cup away from his lips before setting it slowly on the saucer and aside. He looks at the man sitting across from him. Sirius had left with Hermione, something about an emergency concerning Ron Weasley that they had not bothered to explain in the presence of Draco. Draco stares at the man he had come to know in the past two months well enough to see the tension vibrating through him. Harry Black is thrumming with unspent energy, like a caged animal that senses danger and wants to run.

Draco has been trying to piece all the information he has about the man but nothing makes sense. The man sitting before him is a study of contradictions. A mercenary that has no scars resulting from fights, that can use advanced magic, something that is really an ability of the higher noble families, and has an obsession with bonding with Draco.

At first, Draco had believed Harry knew no better than trying to mate a noble Omega, but it was no secret that in bonding a noble Omega a man from the lower classes was risking his life. As there is really no other way of dissolving bonds, many a lower class man that took a noble Omega had been executed, lawfully in the case of rape or unlawfully when the family rejected the match, in order to release the Omega. Draco had learned that the Alpha that had won him was not a stupid nor a reckless man, at least not overly so. Harry must know that if he succeeds in boding Draco, the most likely outcome will be that Lucius will have him assassinated to free Draco. But that is not something this Alpha worries about because…magic.

How a mercenary can perform the type of magic Draco has seen Harry do is beyond him. Draco is now sure that Harry is a bastard of a one of the noble families, which one is what he cannot determine. His last name would suggest the noble house of Black but that was not certain. Bastards are not given the name of the noble families but the birth- parent’s name. Whichever house he belonged to, Draco was sure it was a noble and ancient house, Harry had too much power to be anything else. Enough power not to fear Lucius magical reprisals or assassination attempts when Harry appeared with a bonded Draco before him.

Draco believes that Harry thought to convince Lucius not to kill him, which would have been a wasted effort because Lucius would kill him rather than accept a mercenary as Heir. But he is unclear as to what incentive Harry would provide his father so that Lucius will accept him. As a bastard from a noble family with magical abilities, Harry does have a chance that Lucius might accept him. After all, Draco can’t produce children, which means no one will mate him; he will be a burden for his family, there is no question about it. Maybe leaving him to Harry would not bother his father as much as it would if Draco was of any use.

Draco actually did not dislike the idea, Harry is a reasonable Alpha and a more than adequate lover; he knows Draco cannot not have children and doesn't seem to mind. Draco will never find another Alpha willing to overlook his shortcoming, he knows this. So, he is not unwilling to mate Harry, just wary because he is sure there is something very important he does not know about this man, and he is not going to bind himself to him until he knows what it is.

“What’s happening?” Draco asks, not really expecting an answer. Harry has been intransigent in his refusal to explain anything. But something has occurred because Hermione had looked on the brink of collapse, and Harry has said nothing since he served their tea.

“Ron has been arrested.” Harry finally says.

“My father.” Draco deduces because he knows his father must be turning every stone and smashing the ones he can’t turn to bits trying to locate him.

“Yes, Blaise Nott told him that you hired us to fight for you.”

“Is that why you spiked my tea.” Draco asks. He had realized there was something in the drink after taking a long sip. An overly sweet aftertaste made his teeth feel sticky.

“I am sorry Draco. But I can’t wait any longer.”

“What did you give me?” Draco asks, but he already knows the answer. He can already feel the warmth pooling in his belly, his eyes lose focus for a moment before his vision sharpens much more than normal, and his sense of smell overwhelms him a moment with all the information it provides him.

“I’m sorry.” Harry says looking into his eyes while Draco is still conscious enough to understand as the potion will strip away his ability to control his wolf form.

“Why this way? I deserve to know at least…” Draco half growls through elongating teeth but cannot finish the sentence as pain seizes his body.

“My name…I’m Harry Potter.” Harry replies as answer and the howl of pain that escapes Draco is only half due to his physical pain. The rest is a cry of fear.

 _Potter_ the last shreds of Draco’s mind scream at him. _Potter_!

Harry quickly moves to grab Draco as the Omega throws himself out of his seat and drags the blonde to the entry way and outside as Draco screams mid-transformation. Draco rips himself away from Harry, his screams have turned to growls as his body reshapes itself slowly, painfully. Harry casts a spell to remove the other’s clothes, which are making the entire process even more difficult and painful as they restrain him. He looks on with determination as the Omega writhes on the ground in pain as hair begins to sprout and cover his body, hair so blond it’s almost white, but also thick and coarse. With a last sign of regret, Harry removes his own clothes and transforms. When the black wolf rises to look upon the fair Omega, it’s only to see the other growling at him. The black wolf has a moment to prepare for the assault before the blonde-white wolf attacks.


	5. For Better or for Worst

Draco wakes up naked, lying on his belly, sore, and bloody, with his back baking in the sun. He’s in the middle of the field he and Harry had rutted for the first time two months ago. His body still thrums with the pain of two forced transformations; the pain turns his breaths into short puffs. He is covered in blood and dirt but knows that most of the blood is not his own. His wolf had been vicious in its attacks. He can still taste Harry’s blood in the back of his throat. He had never attacked another wolf before; he had haunted with his parents and others that made up the Malfoy pack before, but there were no confrontations, not the real and ferocious ones that took place between members of different packs. But this time, he had no control over his wolf whatsoever and suddenly finding himself in the vicinity of an unknown wolf and still in pain thanks to the abrupt transformation, the animal had immediately attacked. It made little difference how his wolf fought though, he had not been killed because the Alpha had not wanted to hurt him. In the end, he was an Omega fighting an Alpha, there was only one way it _could_ end. As he looks blankly at the blade of grass right before his eyes, he feels, for the first time, a pull, like gravity pulling a smaller object into a heavier one. _Bond_ , his mind supplies.

How could he possibly have ever thought that he had a connection like this before? He had read and understood theoretically what being bonded meant. Yet, somehow, he had confused his infatuation with his husband early in their marriage to mean they were bonded. How had Lestrange missed this fact seems even more puzzling. Now that he feels the pull, the need to be with this single person, his magic coalescing with another, he knows how laughably idiotic his mistake had been. He could feel the Alpha that had bonded him still, as if he were still within him. It seems childish naïveté now to have thought himself ever bonded to Lestrange, but there was no doubt he was _now_ bonded to Harry. Bonded to Harry _Potter_. How can this be happening? He thinks with despair too tired to cry over the disaster that his life has turned into. What had he done to deserve this? What had he done to deserve any of this?! To deserve being barren, being mated to an abusive monster, and bonded to a fugitive that by all accounts should be dead.

All the Potters were dead. That’s what Draco had grown up knowing, like the rest of the world. Even so, he doesn’t doubt Harry’s words. His confession explains so much; his magical abilities, his desire to bond with a high class Omega, his secrecy, Draco had been curious about all of it. Now, he wishes he’d never been told. Draco watches the blade move to the tune of the light wind that makes him shiver. His eyes lift to look at the man sitting naked on the ground looking at him. His breath stops for a moment, and he just feels. Looking at Harry Potter now is like looking _into_ Harry and into himself. Draco can’t read Harry’s thoughts, nothing like that, but he can sense Harry like an unmovable pillar at the center of his own being. Now, Harry grounds Draco, and Draco grounds Harry.

“You should be dead.” Draco tells him as he attempts to move his head but the pain on the nape of his neck stops him. A glimpse of a memory tells him Harry bit down onto his nape when he mounted him. The wound is sill bleeding and it makes his head feel heavy.

“Let me.” Harry says as he moves, lowering his head and licking Draco’s wound.

Draco’s eyes fall shut as he enjoys his Alpha’s ministrations. He feels slightly annoyed that he is so easily allowing this considering that he was forced into this bond, but his wolf is more than willing to enjoy the attention, and he is too tired to fight it.

“You should be dead.” He repeats. According to what Draco knows, the Potters were all eradicated before Draco was even born.

The Potters had once been a great house. In fact, equal in power with that of Lord Riddle’s house, which is the reason they don’t exist anymore. During the Clash, the Potters and their supporters were for the most part killed or brought down from their high positions. The only surviving families that had supported the Potters that still existed were the Longbottoms, the Dumbledores, the Abbotts, the Ollivanders, and the Shacklebolts. All once powerful with multiple members in the Great Council, now nothing more than paupers. Of the Longbottoms, who had once ruled in the judicial branch of the government, survived Augusta Longbottom and her Beta grandson who worked as a gardener of all things; apparently his magic being particularly in tune with nature. Of the Dumbledores only survived the Patriarch now old and a hermit somewhere, Draco had only heard mention of him here and there. The Ollivanders, one of the richest families, at one point equal to the Malfoys, were now dedicated to base trade and some of the trade was rumored to be prostitutes. Finally, the Shacklebolts had remained in offices in the military and police force but occupied low level positions instead of running the departments as they had in the past.

The branch of the Black family that had supported the Potters had, of course been eradicated along with the Potters, as Draco’s mother told the tale, at least. Draco had reason to doubt that retelling, and now he is certain that the name Sirius must be accompanied by the surname Black. It was, after all, a tradition of the house of his maternal branch to name their children after constellations and stars.

“Stupid to use the name Black, isn’t it?” He says to Harry who is now half lying next to him chanting words that will heal Draco’s wound.

“Black is a very common name outside the noble houses and we didn’t have enough money to forge papers.” Harry says casually.

“But Sirius is the real name. Wouldn’t he have been caught?”

“Sirius is good at hiding and where we’ve been people don’t ask for papers or expect to know anyone’s real name.”

“The Duldrums.” Draco guesses.

“For a few years.” Harry lies a heavy hand on the small of Draco’s back and runs it up to his shoulders and back down, his index finger tracing every vertebrae slowly.

“Does it bother you that I’m touching you?” He asks the Omega.

“You can do what you want with me. Touch me, beat me, fuck me. You’re my Alpha now.” Draco says not bothering to turn to look at the brunet.

“It’s not how I want things to be Draco.”

“Things will be as you want them to be.” The Omega replies, and Harry removes his hand and sits away from Draco again.

Draco remains lying on his belly not bothering to move. “How did you survive? All the Potters were accounted for.” At least as he understood it, they had been.

“I had a close friend as a child. His name was Erin; he was from a merchant family and was staying with us the night… They thought he was me.” Harry takes a deep breath before continuing.

“He had dark hair and…the body was burned enough…we were the same age so it was easy to confuse us. It seems no one bothered to cast a spell to verify the identity.”

Draco sees how they might not bother after a certain point to cast the identification spells. There had been hundreds of bodies, according to his father, and everyone would have assumed that the burned bodies found in the family wing were those of Lily Potter and her three children. James Potter, his two younger brothers and cousins had all died in the fight in the grand foyer of the mansion. If Draco remembers correctly, Emilse Potter, wife of James’s youngest brother, had tried smuggling her twin daughters out in the chaos and they had been ripped to shreds by a band of out of control mercenary Alphas. Castile and Nathaniel Potter, mates of Arthur Potter, the middle brother, were captured and executed for crimes against the state. Draco didn’t remember if either of them had children, but if they did, they must have also died in the Potter Manor because what is told as gospel is that all Potters perished either on the night of the attack or after the ensuing trials.

“How did you get out?” He asks out of curiosity.

“I was with Sirius outside. He was taking me to father, we saw the attack begin. Sirius transformed, the fire started, I transformed but was…useless. He barely got us out with the help of a friend.”

“A friend?”

“A friend.”

Draco finally decides to sit up and look at his new Alpha. There is no pain at his nape anymore, not surprising since as his Alpha, Harry now has the ability to heal non-lethal wounds that Draco might receive and even alleviate the lethal ones so that he does not die from them. He looks at Harry seriously. He wants to help this man. His fortune is after all tied to his. From now on, to the world, Draco is an extension of Harry himself. Draco’s fortunes will, from now onward, rise and fall with Harry’s until Harry dies. Draco can try speeding up the process of Harry’s death, he thinks, but that is wishful thinking. He is a bonded Omega, which means that he is physically incapable of attacking Harry with the intent to kill or ever betray him. Funnily enough, the bond works both ways. Harry could beat him to an inch of his life, but he will never be able to actually kill him. His wolf won’t allow it as surely as Draco’s won’t allow Draco to cause Harry harm, which does not mean that Harry won’t use Draco. Now that Draco belongs to him Lucius is at a disadvantage with Harry.

“It won’t work you know. Getting my father to support you because of this bond. He will do everything he can to see you dead.”

“He can’t kill me. Mercenaries will never make it through my wards, and Lucius Malfoy’s magical abilities are not what they were nineteen years ago.”

“What do you mean? Magically—”

“He has become weaker both physically and magically.” Harry says while he sits there looking at Draco.

Draco doesn’t understand what Harry is saying. Everyone knows that one becomes more powerful magically with age. Yes, a one on one combat between Harry and his father based on brutal strength alone Harry would win, but throw magic into the mix and it becomes a different story.

“I can easily kill him Draco.” Harry says with a serene smile that sends shivers down the Omega’s spine.

“No—”

“Why do you think Lestrange didn’t realize that you two weren’t bonded?”

“What?” Draco asks, confused by the sudden change in topic.

“Lestrange, Crabbe, Flint, Fawley, your father…All have been serving Riddle for well over two decades and instead of becoming more powerful magically they are becoming weaker. Producing fewer offspring. Your father only managing one Omega that’s barren,” he says, and Draco does everything he can not to flinch at the barb thrown at him.

“Crabbe producing a simple minded Beta for an Heir. Lastrange? Three mates and all he has to show for it is one Omega and a bunch of malformed dead babes. Flint? His Heir proved magically impotent, and Fawley? Last I heard fucking one mistress after another trying to father at least a bastard.” How did Harry know so much about the noble families? Draco wonders.

“I don’t understand…”

“No you don’t. You didn’t bond with Lestrange, which means your magic and his never connected and so Riddle never had access to you.”

“What you’re implying is preposterous!” Draco says. Because it was ridiculous to think…

“I’m not implying anything. Think about the families that have followed him the longest. Tell me how well they’re fairing.”

“I…”

“More than likely Lestrange can’t even sense the bonds he has with his other two mates, and thought that it was normal since you were a third mate that the connection would be even less perceptible. That’s what he probably tells himself.” Harry concludes.

“It could be the truth. Lestrange might just not be powerful enough to sustain three bonds.” Draco argues.

“Why not? He comes from one of the most ancient families. Three bonds is what’s allowed because it’s what even the weakest of the Alphas within the noble houses can sustain comfortably. Why would an arguably powerful Alpha, the head of a family, having his family magic pooling into him, and being from a powerful line be unable to do so? In ancient times, an Alpha of his status could have had up to five or even six mates.” Harry says as he stands up before his Omega. He offers Draco his hand but the blonde rises without taking it.

“They would have known if Lord Riddle was draining them somehow. They are not stupid.” Draco argues with a desperation born from denial.

“There are more than enough spells that confuse the senses and the mind. Isn’t it ironic that Riddle is probably using their own magic to fuel a perpetual _confundus_ over all of them?” Harry says with a taint of actual humor in his voice.

“You think it’s _funny_?”

“I think they should have known better than accept Riddle’s _consolidation_ plans. My family saw through it.”

“And your family is no more.” Draco says spitefully.

“Nor is yours. You are barren and there are no other Malfoys left, not even distant cousins. At least the Potters died fighting and weren’t eradicated while licking the ass of the leach that is draining them until they pathetically die off.”

The slap is a quick reaction that Draco can’t control. Blood leaks from the shallow wounds his still sharp nails leave behind on Harry’s cheek. Draco waits for the blow of retaliation but it never comes. The Alpha moves close to him, their naked bodies almost touching. Harry lowers his head to bring his green eyes at even level with Draco’s silver.

“You will never do that again.” He says, and Draco knows he won’t.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucius Malfoy examines the man that stands before his son. He immediately recognized the arrogant features that were all James Potter. It would be impossible to miss the resemblance, and if Lestrange had any brains left, he would have recognized this man as a Potter immediately when he stepped into the arena on the day of the _Tribuens Virum_. However, his ex-son in law, like so many other nobles, has grown too comfortable and arrogant since the Clash to bother paying attention to a lowly mercenary. Such idiocy had cost their lives to many during the years of the Clash when assassins were as common among the lower classes as lice.

“Potter.” Lucius says without waiting for the other man to introduce himself and receiving a nod of confirmation. Lucius sits behind his imposing mahogany desk and gestures for the man to sit in the opposite chair.

Once he caught the redheaded brute that had competed for Draco, Lucius had known that it would not take long for the other rats that had absconded with his son to resurface. Not surprisingly, the same evening his son walked into Malfoy manor followed by the tall young man that accompanied him. Lucius had _not_ expected to find a _Potter_ among the rats, but such were the caprices of fate.

Potter moves to sit before Lucius, his back straight and his pose relaxed as if he has nothing to fear from the man that was still feared even within his own circles. Lucius had, after all, made more than a few men disappear over the years, including a number of Potters. A Potter indeed, Lucius thinks.

“You are a bastard.” Lucius determines.

“I know you met my mother Lord Malfoy. You also met me, although you might not remember much about it. I was not in any way a remarkable child.”

So, one survived Lucius thinks surprised, although not demonstratively so. The boy did have Lily Potter’s revered emerald eyes, and Lucius did remember meeting him when he was five or so. The boy had been accompanying his father when Lucius run into them, and James Potter had introduced him as his Heir.

“Harry Potter,” Lucius remembers the name. The young man tilts his head in confirmation from across the desk.

“And what does Harry Potter want with _my_ son?”

“What would any Alpha want with any Omega?” Harry responds making Lucius frown.

“Have you come into my house to inform me you have taken my son for your whore?” He asks slowly and sees Draco fidget from behind Potter’s seat. Potter’s stance changes slightly, tensing as Draco moves to stand more firmly behind Potter’s chair as opposed to next to it.

Lucius’s eyes widen imperceptibly at the display. In a split second he analyzes his son’s behavior since he walked into the Manor. Draco walked in first but quickly fell behind Potter in step. He stood slightly behind Potter in the office before the Alpha sat down, and, instead of taking a seat himself in the chair next to Potter’s, Draco instinctively moved to stand behind Potter. Behind him to maintain his distance from Lucius because, even if his son was not aware of it, his wolf did not want to be in close proximity to any other Alphas other than Potter, it’s newly bonded _mate_.

“But you are bonded to Lestrange” Lucius can’t help saying aloud, looking at his son.

“No, he is not. Nor was he ever.” Harry says with a smile.  

“What?” Lucius asks looking at Potter before turning toward his son’s voice.

“Father, I…Lestrange failed to bond with my wolf and…Harry…” How did you explain to your father that you were forced to transform, were then mounted, and woke up bonded, without making it awkward? Draco decided to just say no more. His father was a smart man, he could fill in the blanks.

“Draco was mated to Lestrange lawfully, the marriage was consummated.” Lucius says; he is sure about this; he still remembers with distaste Lestrange’s shit eating grin after the wedding night. “Unless…” Lucius says and looks hopefully at Draco’s midsection.

“Draco’s not pregnant.” Harry says, dispelling the brief hope within Lucius that his bloodline might not end in this generation.

“He was never bonded to Lestrange at all, but he is truly barren.” Lucius frowns at the Alpha sitting across him slightly. The arrogant boy enjoys rubbing Draco’s shortcoming into Lucius’s face; Lucius is sure of this.

“Father, Lestrange and I never mated in wolf form and he doesn’t have enough magical strength to create a bond in human form with me, or not after having two other mates. In fact, Potter and I bonded only after mating in wolf form.” Draco finishes from behind Potter’s chair.

Lucius is astonished. His son is powerful enough to reject bonds unless forged in wolf form? That is truly amazing considering that Lucius can sense the coiled magical energy within Potter while the man just sits there. For an Omega to be able to stand against it… It hurt even more now that his son would not produce progeny because Lucius is sure Draco’s children would have been something to behold.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Potter?” He demands from the Alpha, purposefully omitting the title of Lord when addressing him despite the man’s claim to such as Heir of the Potter lineage.

“I want you to do as you lawfully must. Declare me your Heir.” He states and Lucius stares at him.

Lucius had not expected that James Potter would produce an imbecile for a son, but he obviously had. What the boy is demanding is impossible. Lucius would be destroyed, his family wiped out as surely as the Potters if he appeared to turn coat on Lord Riddle.

“You do realize which would be the simpler solution to the problem you present me with, do you not?” Lucius asks him. He can see Draco tense behind Potter, and if there was any doubt about their union, it is dispelled in this moment. His son will fight him alongside Potter if he has to; he belongs to Potter as surely as Narcissa belongs to Lucius.

“Why don’t you summon your mate so that we can all discuss this?” Potter suggests. Lucius looks at him, trying to understand the goal of the boy. Summon Narcissa? Did he think Narcissa would plead for Potter’s life because he’s bonded to Draco? Narcissa is a practical woman, she’ll be the first to suggest assassinating Potter to solve the problem.

“You believe my mate will offer you assistance?” Lucius asks amused.

“I think she might want to see her son whom she has not seen in months. As I understand, Lestrange did not allow you to visit Draco.”

Lucius attempts to understand what Potter wants with Narcissa. His curiosity is picked enough that he decides to indulge the boy. He moves an elegant hand towards the silver bell that sits at his elbow on his desk, but before his fingers close around the shaft of the bell, Potter speaks again.

“No.” He says, leaning forward in his seat and looking intently at the blond Alpha. “ _Summon_ her.” He says. Lucius’s hand moves away from the bell. He stares at the boy considering what he is asking. He wants Lucius to summon Narcissa, not call for a servant to notify his mate that her presence is desired, but to _Summon_ Narcissa himself, through their bond.

“Tell me _Lord_ Malfoy, _can_ you summon your mate?” Potter says sitting back into his chair relaxing, while Draco’s fingers wrap around the sides of Potter’s chair, his knuckles turning white with the pressure he is applying to the wood.

“Excuse me?” Lucius says. He feels…His mind tries to process what Potter says but…

“I am bonded to your only son. Your son is an Omega, by law, as his Alpha, all his titles and the properties attached to them pass to me. You will name me your Heir.” Harry says in a relentless monotone. Lucius prepares to reject the dictate, but, before he can, Harry continues in the same tone.

“You will name me your Heir _privately_ when Draco and I marry. Publicly you will name Harry Black, bastard son of Regulus Black, the mercenary that won your son in the _Tribuens Virum_ as your Heir.” Harry concludes.

“No one that sees you will believe you’re a Black. The Potter name is written all over your face.” Lucius responds implacably. “Anyone that sees you—”

“People will see what I want them to see. How do you think I competed for your son in a public arena without being recognized? I will sustain the glamours as long as necessary.”

“You cannot sustain glamours indefinitely.”

“Lord Malfoy, I apologize if I made it seem as if I am asking for your opinion concerning my magical capacity to maintain spells, I am not. Neither am I asking you to name me your heir. You will do it.”

Lucius says nothing, but his magic unleashes like a whip with the brunet as its target. Draco gasps but the spell never reaches its goal. Instead Lucius’s magic crashes into an invisible wall that has been surrounding Harry and Draco since they walked into the house and no one but Harry had been aware of until now. With a sharp indication of his fingers, Harry sends the senior Malfoy flying off his seat and into the shelves of his private library several feet from the desk. With a muttered spell from the brunet’s lips Lucius’s airway tightens until he can no longer draw breath. Harry stands to look as the man begins to suffocate and feels sharp nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“Harry!” Draco says digging his nails that have elongated in his agitation deeper into Harry’s back.

“Please…Harry.” The young Omega says, and Harry is shocked to feel his grip on his magic and on Lucius slacken. His magic, responding to Draco’s fear, is letting go enough to allow the older Alpha to breathe again. Harry turns his head to look down at his Omega and growls a warning. Draco looks up at him, eyes pleading and afraid, and Harry feels his wolf howling inside him, demanding he stop whatever is making their bond-mate suffer. Harry waves his hand and Lucius is released. The young Alpha very carefully looks at the other Alpha but it’s not Lucius that he thinks of. He needs to be more wary of Draco, he realizes. He had thought that as Alpha he would be able to exercise a certain level of control over Draco through their connection. He had not, as it happens, considered that the bond worked both ways. If Harry did not want to end up a puppet in his Omega’s delicate hands, he will have to be very careful around him.

“You will release Ron and will allow his brothers to open their shops again.” He tells Lucius.

“You will also tell your barrister to prepare all pertinent documents for my appointment as Heir to the Malfoy line.” Lucius does not respond to this and Harry knows the man will betray him if things stand as they are.

Harry moves toward Lucius. “You can’t summon your mate.” He says to the man. “She can’t even sense when you are in danger. Don’t you wonder why that is?”

“Harry” Draco says moving closer to the two Alphas, his hand grasps the brunet’s bicep and he turns to look at his father.      

“Please father, consider what Harry says. We don’t require an answer right now.” He tells the other Malfoy as he tries discreetly to pull Harry away.

“Tell mother I miss her and will see her soon, please.” He says and finally; without saying another word, Harry allows his mate to move him toward the door.

No one stops them as they make their way to the Manor’s main entrance, which Harry considers a good sign. As soon as they exit the Malfoy home, Harry turns to Draco, stopping him in his tracks.

“Why did you interfere?” He demands.

“He wouldn’t have accepted anything you told him after you smashed him into a wall. Your skills at diplomacy need a lot of work, by the way.” Harry grabs the Omega’s bicep and apparates them back to Eliria. Draco begins to move quickly through the town towards the cottage. Being anywhere public with Harry makes Draco exceedingly uncomfortable considering that at any moment anyone might recognize the brunet as a Potter.

“He will name me Heir or—”

“He’ll name you Heir. But he wouldn’t have admitted it now. He’s too angry.”

“I don’t care how angry he is.” Harry says and Draco stops in his tracks and turns to him, exasperated with the brunets stubbornness.

“Harry for the love of God! You just threw his attack off like it was a fly and then _smashed_ him into a _wall_.” Draco says exasperated. How could perfectly intelligent people that Alphas could be turn into moronic testosterone ridden idiots was beyond him. But put two together in one room with an axe to grind and they did just that.

“You proved your point.” Draco continues gesturing at his Alpha. “You are strong,” he gestures at himself. “You have me, and you…you might be up to something about the magical abilities of the Alphas connected to Lord Riddle. He will think about it when his head is cool. Then, you can talk to him again, without demonstrations of Alpha supremacy thrown in the mix, I hope. And yes, he will accept you as Heir. Since I can’t have children, he’ll never get me bonded to anyone else if he kills you and you are powerful. You are the type of Heir he always wanted if you exclude the Potter part.” Draco concludes.

“How will we know when he’s made this decision?” Harry mock asks as they enter the fields that surround their home.

“When he releases Ron.” Draco tells him as matter of fact.

“I told him to release Ron immediately.”

“And he will release him when he is good and ready.” Draco replies as they reach the cottage entering and moving towards the hallway that leads to the airy kitchen.

“The point of visiting your father was to get Ron released.” Harry almost growls.

“No, the point of visiting father was to stop him from _killing_ Ron. When father accepts that you might have a point in all you said, he’ll release Ron as a signal that he wants to discuss things again.”


	6. Death Do Us Part

It took Lucius a week before finally releasing Ron. Harry had been impatient but even Hermione had advised that they wait until Lucius digested the information Harry had given him. Harry also worried that Lucius might choose to execute Ron and run to Riddle, which was a strong possibility. But Draco argued that his father was not so much loyal as opportunistic and having Draco in his hands made Harry too much a thread for Lucius to act recklessly. Draco insisted that if his father suspected that Riddle was draining his magic, he would surely try to rid himself of the man, and the Omega was proven right, Harry thinks, as they receive notice that Ron has been released and the Weasley shops are open once more.

“Now we can visit the Manor again.” Draco tells him, lying naked on their bed next to Harry. His skin glows milky yet gold in the mid-morning light as he looks up at the brunet that sits beside him after having finished reading the message Hermione had owled them.

“We need to mate formally.” Harry says. It would be best if Draco’s parents consented to the marriage, thus Harry’s naming as Heir would occur faster and securing the Malfoy fortune is a priority.

Draco’s slim fingers move through golden-white strands that are slightly longer than they were when Harry first won him. Harry observes his mate with silent pride. Draco looks much better than he did during the _Tribuens Virum._ He has gain some weight so that his frame isn’t as bonny, his hair shines, and he is less guarded around Harry. Harry knows that Draco was not eager for their bond, but the Omega put up no protests about Harry continuing to share his bed and his body after their unconventional bonding.

“Are you afraid of me?” Harry had asked him the night after they bonded, wondering if he should sleep in another bedroom.

“Why would I be?” Draco asked in confused annoyance.

“Things could not have been easy with Lestrange and our bonding…” Harry said.

“You had no right to force a bond.” Draco tells him. “But comparing our bonding with…with my marriage to Lestrange is preposterous.” He finishes. It would be silly, and Draco would have laughed at the comparison of the two if the experience of marriage to Lestrange were anything to laugh about, which it is not.

“I forced—” Harry begins but stops uncomfortably. He can’t honestly say that he would act differently if time were reversed. He needs the bond with Draco, it’s a matter of survival. Harry’s survival and the survival of all the people that have a connection to him.

“You wouldn’t do anything different if you had the chance, so there’s no reason to offer apologies.” Draco tells him.

“I won’t apologize then. But I do want you to know that you are not obliged to accept me. If what happened makes you uncomfortable with—”

“The hell?” Draco interrupts him with a look of astonishment. The Omega thought that Harry had been apologizing for giving him the potion to force his change, but the man seemed to be apologizing for their wolves having sex.

“You are comparing two wolves rutting with what Lestrange did to me?!” Draco asks to make sure he understands what the brunet is trying to say.

“I forced **—** my wolf in any case…forced **—** ” Harry says looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“Harry—you tried to bond me to you for two months before realizing that my wolf would not allow it, and I wasn’t exactly resisting our ruttings. Even with a mate of my _choice,_ ” he says knowing that the reminder would make the brunet feel even more uncomfortable. “A rutting in wolf form would be necessary. And no, I’m not afraid of you. Wolves aren’t people, when they rut it’s violent, it’s not comparable with my life with Lestrange. My wolf demanded proof that you were a strong Alpha before bonding to you. It fought you and you won. It got what it wanted and it bonded to you, and it trusts you. I can’t say I feel the same; I don’t. You lied to me and drugged me. But what happened after between the wolves was between the wolves.” He told the Alpha and watched as the man before him considered his words.

“You don’t trust me.” Harry repeats.

“Do I have any reason to?”

“No, you don’t.” He says in a way that suggests he accepts their reality. Draco decides that he might need to accept their reality as well.

“You are…my bonded mate.” He tells the brunet before opening the door to their bedroom and motioning him inside.

Since that day, Draco has acted as he had before their bonding. Harry doesn’t know if he should be pleased that Draco is capitulating so easily and eagerly or worried about what the Omega is planning.

“The ceremony should take place at the Manor. But it should be a small and private affair, no one will think it strange after the _Tribuens Virum_. After that embarrassment, a small ceremony would be the way to go.” Draco says, now running his nails over Harry’s naked thigh.

“Aren’t you eager to marry me all of a sudden?” Harry says as the Omega leans to lick the scratches his nails made on the tan thigh.  

“We are already bonded. Compared to that, marriage is nothing.” Draco says looking up at Harry before taking his mate’s heavy erection into his mouth.

“Hmm.” Harry mumbles as he leans back into the headboard, running his own fingers through the hair on the bobbing golden head as he enjoys Draco’s attentions.

“Come up here.” He tells the Omega when he can no longer wait and the blond eagerly moves to straddle his Alpha. Without waiting for Harry’s instructions, Draco places Harry’s erection at his entrance and pressed down until the Alpha is fully sheathed within him.

“Eager.” Harry says, looking into the Omega’s bright eyes, feeling Draco fingers caress his nape as the Omega arches into him.

“You can wonder about…about my motives later.” Draco pants as he begins to rock back and forth. “Now, fuck me.” He demands before leaning in to kiss the brunet.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t think we should be present Harry.” Remus says as they all congregate in the kitchen discussing preparations for Harry’s and Draco’s mating ceremony.

Sirius, Remus, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Harry have all gathered, making the space feel smaller than usual, to discuss how best to proceed in the coming meeting with Lucius Malfoy and plan Harry’s and Draco’s bonding ceremony.

“No, certainly not.” Sirius agrees, looking at the two younger men sitting across from him and his mate.

“No one will find it strange if a mercenary doesn’t invite many people to his mating when he is marrying a noble. Most people will expect that I’d be too ashamed to invite anyone or want to be rid of them. It’s better if no one knows about you. If they figure out you’re Sirius Black... No, it wouldn’t look suspicious if I go alone, but I still need a witness.” Harry agrees and even Draco nods.

“I can do that.” Ron says. “Everyone already knows we are friends and all, so it’s not like we’re exposing anything or anyone new.” Harry agrees with this and sees Draco do the same.

Harry gives Draco a suspicious look when the Omega doesn’t bother to say anything but simply agrees. Draco smothers a smile when his eyes meet Harry’s suspicious glances. The Omega is somewhat flattered that a strong Alpha like Harry Potter considers him threatening enough to be monitoring him all the time. And he is monitoring Draco, he makes no secret of it. Draco actually applauds his actions. Draco is _not_ a trustworthy person and the fact that Harry does not trust him even after they have bonded shows that the man has sharp instincts, which he’ll need for what he intends to do.

In fact, Draco thinks, if it were not for the bond, constant surveillance or not, he would have been planning the most efficient way to assassinate the man and get himself back to Malfoy Manor. However, he is bonded to Harry now and this changes everything. Draco cannot even think of causing irreparable harm to Harry Potter without getting anxious. The man is his Alpha, and as such, Draco cannot consider him as a separate entity from himself. When Draco considers possible ways to extract himself from this situation, he always runs into the same problem; the idea of something happening to Potter paralyzes him. His instincts have him tied hand and foot to the man. He wants to laugh when he thinks about the times he fantasized about cutting Lestrange’s throat, stubbing him in the back, poisoning him. It had never occurred to Draco that thinking such thoughts about his supposed bonded mate should be impossible, or, at the very least, uncomfortable. Draco still struggles with his reality of being bonded to a _Potter_ ; the knowledge of such a thing is like a death sentence that hangs over him, bonded to a traitor, to a dead man walking. Yes, it is good that Potter has sharp instincts and the fact that he and Sirius have survived this long should be commended. However, they survived in hiding. Now, they intend to infiltrate Lord Riddle’s domain and try to bring him down.

Draco cannot see how it can be done. Lord Riddle is not really a member of the Council, he _rules_ the Council, has done so since the conclusion of the Clash two decades ago. Not all the families that boast Council members are part of Lord Riddle’s inner circle, many preferring to remain neutral, a more prominent example being the Notts, but they never opposed his decisions or dictates. Others had tried, not just the Potters. People disappeared, their lines died off, and on some occasions Lord Riddle’s enemies went insane, killing their own children and mates. No one that opposed him survived. And now, Draco was bonded to a man that had every intention of going against such a person. _We are all going die_ , he thinks, as he sits in a small kitchen, in a cottage on the outskirts of a little coastal town, planning to destroy the most ruthless man known to all.

Draco has many times considered begging his Alpha to desist. To stay in hiding, to accept his fate. But he has come to know Harry Potter well enough to be sure that he would be wasting his time and energy trying to change his course of action. Instead, he has decided to concentrate on _trying_ to keep himself and his family alive, and because his instincts won’t let him be, he will also try to keep the crazy man that bonded him alive. If what Harry says is true and Lord Riddle’s considerable magical abilities are in part due to his draining the magic of powerful Alphas from noble families, then cutting down his connection or access to these people might make him more manageable. However, Draco cannot think that they can manage this without Lord Riddle realizing what they are trying to do.

“Maybe I should officiate?” Asks Hermione. She works for the civil court branch in the capital and as such could officiate.

“It needs to be that way, otherwise how are we going to put Harry’s real name on the documents?” Ron puts in.

“My father won’t be amendable to that.” Draco says and everyone turns to him.

“He might prefer someone he trusts do it. Just to make sure that…Well, that Harry does not try to appropriate any of the Malfoy assets while he still lives.”

“We can’t have anyone else.” Sirius says.

“Your father can examine the contract before the ceremony, but we can’t risk anyone finding out that you are mated to a Potter and not a Black.”

“I know, but it might still be difficult to get him to agree. He has little reason to trust you.” Draco says looking at Harry.

“He participated in the mass murder of my family. If someone should be wary in all this, it’s me.” Harry replies and the mood in the kitchen darkens.

Draco feels uncomfortable more so than before. He knows that his father participated in the attack on the Potter Manor. He also knows that, unlike everyone else Draco has met in his life, the people sitting around this table consider that attack the murder of an innocent family, not the destruction of enemies of the state. He knows that they hold a lot of resentment, not just against Lord Riddle, but against many of his supporters. He wonders if Harry can forgive them enough to convince them to support him. Could he do that? Draco wonders, when he can’t even forgive the father of his bonded mate? Then, Harry’s hand finds his beneath the table squeezing in reassurance, and Draco hopes he might be able to forgive after all.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two weeks after their second meeting with Lucius, Draco stands in his father’s office next to Harry as Hermione, standing behind Lucius’s office, asks that they pronounce their oaths of trust and loyalty to one another. There is little fanfare to the affair. Draco and Harry are dressed in simple white tunics. They stand next to one another holding hands as is customary but there is no reassuring squeeze from Harry this time. This ceremony is not a demonstration of love, it’s not even the creation of a political connection of two houses veiled by a pantomime of romance as his first wedding had been. There are no decorations, no smiling guests, no flowing champagne, and no elegant music.

Instead, Draco stands next to his new Alpha bathed in the light filtering from the grand windows that take up half a wall in the right side of the room, while his parents watch the event unfold with tensed expressions, standing to Draco’s left side. The only person beside the Malfoys that has accompanied them in this _happy event_ is Ron Weasley, who acts as Harry’s witness. It had been determined that he was the safest choice and Sirius and Remus had remained in Eliria. The senior Malfoys don’t yet know of Sirius’s existence, and Harry has insisted it remain so until after the marriage.

The double doors of the office are warded heavily to ensure that none of the servants hear what is going on, especially hear any mention of the name Potter. Of course, Lucius and Narcissa had made a point of speaking before their servants about Draco’s approaching nuptials with Harry _Black_ , the man that had won him during the _Tribuens Virum._ Narcissa was even heard by the chamber maid complain to her husband that even if Harry: “ _is_ a Black by blood, well a bastard is a bastard.” Thus, the rumors that Draco Malfoy will marry again and to a bastard descended from the Black family were quickly dispersed from one grand household to another and from servant to master and mistress. The rumors made many eyebrows lift, some in pity and some in glee, at the fall of the great Malfoy house that had to accept an _illegitimate_ into their mist, but, of course, an illegitimate from a noble family was still more than a _barren_ Omega could aspire to. So, none thought it strange that the family had accepted the match.

When Hermione indicates, Draco grasps the quill she offers him, leans over the desk and signs his name on the appropriate lines of each page, once, twice, thrice. Then, Harry proceeds to do the same, _Harry James Potter,_ he writes, and seeing it makes Draco feel as if the walls are closing in on him. This marriage means nothing really. The bonding has already taken place and whether he is mated officially to Harry or not won’t matter when the Alpha is exposed as a Potter. Draco will fall with him no matter what. However, seeing it written plainly, in Harry’s sharply printed letters right next to his own elegantly cursive script is like looking at his admission of complicity. It is an admission. When all is exposed he won’t be able to say he knew nothing, neither would his father who also signs as witness. Harry had demanded that both Lucius and Narcissa sign as witnesses, but Lucius had adamantly refused to expose his mate in such a way, but to prove his commitment to Harry, he had agreed to be a witness himself. This cemented their alliance against Lord Riddle.

In their last meeting, Lucius had admitted to a progressive weakening of his magical core and what was even more alarming, a weakening of the family’s collective magic. Not something perceptible to Draco or Narcissa, but Lucius as head of the family was more closely connected to the ancestral magic and so more sensitive to fluctuations within it. Draco cannot begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for his proud father to admit to such things. The damage to his magic and the family magic is what pushed Lucius to consider Harry’s cause and later adopt said cause. It was not a decision taken in valor but based in the pragmatic situation of their family. In all honesty, the Malfoys had little to lose. Draco is the only heir and he cannot produce another heir no matter what they choose, their line ends with Draco and Draco belongs to Harry. So, the best way to help their son is to help the man he is bonded to, and should they win, the Malfoys will be incredibly influential for as long as they do exist and might be remembered in history at least. It was better, Lucius had said, than seeing his line crumble to dust under Riddle’s heel.

As soon as Weasley is done signing the documents as Harry’s witness, Hermione collects them without bothering to pronounce Draco and Harry Mates or congratulating them. Business-like she pulls another folder of documents from a satchel she carried with her when she arrived, and Draco moves to make space for his father and Harry to stand next to each other. The truly important ceremony now takes place. Lucius Malfoy is naming Harry Potter his Heir as agreed in their last meeting. Both men give prefatory glances at the documents and sign them quickly since they had already read them several times. Ron and Draco sign as witnesses this time and Hermione reads over the pertinent sections as required by law. Draco feels light fingers caress him elbow and looks at his mother standing next to him.

“I wish things were different for you my love.” She tells him quietly as Hermione continues to recite the pertinent parts before the men sign each page.

Draco turns his head forward again to look at Harry’s back feeling the intangible but ever-present pull toward his Alpha.

“They were different before,” he says thinking of his elaborate wedding to Lestrange and his subsequent cohabitation with the man. “I prefer this way.” He determines. Whatever happens, whatever the end, he is surprised to discover that he does prefer it this way.


	7. Seeds

Draco leans his back onto Harry who sits behind him in the tub. The Omega closes his eyes and drops his head onto Harry’s shoulder enjoying the warmth of the water that relaxes his taxed muscles. The only aspect of this day that had resembled a wedding was their vigorous rutting once they returned to Eliria. Sirius had even ceded them the house for a week. Although Draco sees it more as an excuse to pass more time with his own mate Remus. Where Remus lives is still a mystery to Draco, but Sirius visited him several times a month.

“We will be moving to the capital in a few weeks.” Harry tells him before kissing his temple.

“You want to live with my parents?” Draco asks surprised, and hears Harry snort and chuckle in horror.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We are moving to the Black ancestral Manor.” He says still chuckling.

“But…How…” Draco says, making a valiant effort not to be distracted by Harry’s fingers that are toying with his left nipple. His new husband is always handsy and Draco has decided he quite likes it, so it works well.

“Before the _Tribuens Virum,_ the plan was to have me recognized as a bastard heir to the Black family and institute me as a member of the upper class and then a member of the Council as such.”

“But as an unrecognized bastard no one would have accepted your claim.” Draco says, twisting his neck to look at his Alpha.

“Sirius recognized me.”

“You cannot be serious. That’s suicide.” The blond says pocking Harry sharply with his elbow.

“Not _now_. We created a will in which he recognized Harry Black as his bastard nephew, son of his younger brother Regulus, supposedly more than twenty years ago, before he died as it were.” Harry stretches, spreading his thighs more to allow Draco more space to sit comfortably between them and the wraps his arms around the Omega’s waist.

“So what? People are supposed to believe that you waited twenty years to claim your rights and that it just so happen to coincide with you marrying the Malfoy Heir?”

“Actually the claiming of the Black title and fortune has been ongoing for the past four years. It’s just been very slow going without the connections to speed things up.” Harry explains.

“And my father is your connection now.” Draco fills in.

“Yes, no one will think it strange that he is helping his new Heir. And anyone that investigates deeply will find that the claiming applications have been in the system for years, even before you married Lestrange. Plus, the will is actually real, meaning even if they perform spells to identify a forged magical signature, they’d find nothing because it is Sirius’s real magical signature.” He explains tightening his hold on the blond.

“That’s…quite brilliant actually.” Draco says blinking at Harry and making the Alpha laugh.

“You really think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” Harry asks smiling.

“Suicidal more like.” Draco says, his own smile fading. “You are going to get yourself killed. You are going to get mother and father killed. You are going to get me killed.” He says.

“No, I won’t let anything happen to you. Are you so afraid of him you can’t conceive for a moment that he might be the one to die?”

“How can you ask me that when you know what he did to your family and what he has done to the other nobles?” Draco asks exasperated.

Harry acts as if Draco’s fear is unreasonable, as if he were an over-reactive little Omega. He acts as if Lord Riddle has not killed and destroyed his enemies with impunity for decades. He acts as if Draco’s fears are unfounded and he should pay all this no mind. This arrogance of Alphas always infuriates Draco. His father, Lestrange, even Harry, they act as if they can command the fates as easily as they can command their mates during heats. Whatever Harry says, however, Draco is not willing to fool himself into a false sense of security because that, more than anything, will seal his fate; he refuses to die out of willful stupidity.

Draco sharply pulls away from his husband, making the water spill over the edge of the tub, and turns to look at him more fully.

“You are an idiot. You are a fool to think that this will not put everyone you know in mortal danger. Riddle will do everything to destroy you and everyone that ever helped you in any way, no matter how small.” He tells the Alpha.

“I know that—”

“No you don’t understand. You want me to pretend this isn’t happening, that you can protect me, but you can’t. You can’t protect me, so don’t ask me to depend on you being always there. Harry, if I do that, I’ll end up dead.”

Harry stares at his mate suppressing the words that instinctively want to spurt forth. Words of reassurance about Draco’s safety, words of indignation at the suggestion that he is incapable of protecting his Omega, but he knows he cannot say any of it. The desire to convince Draco that nothing will happen to him is unrealistic and dangerous; Harry knows this. His wolf, however, does not like the suggestion that he cannot protect its bonded mate. Harry knows Draco’s right about their future once they enter the highest tiers of society. There are no guarantees that Harry will succeed, and should he fall, all the Malfoys will fall with him. Harry has made sure of this by having Lucius name him as Heir using Harry’s real name and Draco is legally mated to Harry Potter not Harry Black. There would be no way for them to disassociate themselves from Harry if they are discovered, which was Harry’s way to guarantee Lucius Malfoy’s loyalty. Riddle would never allow Harry’s mate to live or any of his allies. As much as it pained him, Harry knew he was putting Draco, Lucius, not to mention Sirius and the Weasleys in peril. For the first time since he was six years old and watched as his house burned down with his family in it, Harry feels himself hesitate.

“Do you think there’s another way? Do you think that I can move on and live another life? That I can…be who I am and do nothing about what he did?” He asks Draco slowly.

“I…” Draco cannot believe what he is hearing. Since he met Harry this is the first time he has seen the man hesitate in his path, and he is asking Draco to help him decide? Draco considers finally asking Harry to accept reality and move on, make a new life with his false name and live away from the capital. He wants to ask for this reprieve from reality, for this escape, why fight? Why endanger what they have now? They can simply disappear and… He can’t say it. Draco wants to be a coward and forget but…His family and Harry’s family…What Riddle has done. Draco looks closely at Harry and he knows. He knows Harry will never live a full life if things remain as they are and what is more shocking, Draco knows that he won’t be able to either.

Draco leans into his mate, burying his face into the crook of his shoulder and says nothing, but silently, he promises to keep the man alive for as long as he can.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month after his formal mating, Draco finds himself in residence at the Black ancestral home. The Manor is in pristine condition considering that it had not been inhabited by anyone in more than nineteen years. As it happens, Draco’s mother had been maintaining the property since she hoped to claim it as the last surviving descendant of the Black family. Ironically, her claiming process was what had stalled Harry’s for so long. In the end, the result was the same, whether claimed by his mother or his husband, the property belongs to Draco either through blood or marriage, but only temporarily since Sirius is still alive. The manor, like most, is located far from the center of the capital to ensure the privacy of the family and to allow for space. Draco has no complains about space. The Black manor has extensive grounds that rival those of Malfoy manor, even though they are not as well kept. Draco actually likes the wildness and can’t wait to roam the grounds in his wolf form with Harry. The thought often makes him smile.

The house itself is quite dated, the color of the brick exterior walls, once dark red has washed off turning into a pallid brown instead. There are also too few and narrow windows that filter little light into most of the rooms, giving them a cave like feel. The furnishes are also outdated and the entire house is permeated by a feeling of abandonment and disuse, a smell of rooms closed off for too long, and a coldness inherent to houses that have not seen human life unfold within their walls for decades. Once, the Black manor would have been imposing Draco imagines, but now, it’s a specter that he is not too comfortable inhabiting. If this were Draco’s _real_ home, he would have immediately began plans to renovate the place to make it more comfortable and agreeable. Alas, the Black manor is not his house and Draco has much more urgent things to do anyway.

Since they returned to the capital, Draco has been making the rounds. His mother collected several invitations for tea, luncheons, and what not, all designed to re-introduce Draco into society and pave the way for Harry’s entrance into the upper circles. Draco is quite popular as any fresh scandal would be; his notoriety after the fall out of his first marriage makes him perfect entertainment material for what are usually mind-numbingly boring gatherings. Draco is charming and agreeable to all, speaking praises about his new husband and answering the rude questions posed by gossips that have nothing better to do than judge his life and snicker behind his back. “Poor dear… Barren you know,” they said when they were kind. “Pretty enough, but what can he make of it when he can’t you know…All that _Tribuens Virum_ business. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard!” When they were unkind.

Draco could not care less whether they pitied or despised him. Once, before he was bonded to a Potter, the opinion of his self-righteous peers meant everything, but now a days, his main concern is surviving what is to come. So, as his father introduced Harry to his friends as his Heir, towing him into meetings and gatherings that any Heir would be expected to attend after reaching majority, Draco works hard to win the simpering and vitriolic mates of the men his husband will need supporting him if he is to challenge Riddle.

He is, however, glad to see some faces again. Blaise for one, despite his part in creating Draco’s problems. Once they meet at the Parkinson luncheon Draco feels the comfort of a familiar face again. Despite his inability to speak about any of his problems to Blaise, Draco feels he can at least stop performing tricks for the snarky audience of bored guests. Blaise’s smile of relief at seeing Draco also makes the blond relax and return the gesture with a genuine smile of his own.

“Blaise” Pansy Parkinson-Crabbe says as she sees the brunet Omega approach her and her star guest.

“Blaise.” Draco also greets. Blaise, Pansy, and Draco were the same age and had attended the academy together. Although they could all be considered friends, Draco’s maturation into an Omega that had surprised everyone had also impacted the dynamics of their relationship. While Blaise and Pansy had always competed for Draco’s attention when they had been younger, thinking that the blond would present as an Alpha and they might have an opportunity to secure a young and rich mate in him, after Draco’s maturation their reactions had been polar opposites. While Blaise seemed happy to accept the reality and transition from seeing Draco as a potential love interest into a friend in the same conditions as him. Pansy, on the other hand, was crushed, seeing Draco as insurmountable competition. Pansy became extremely competitive with Draco, thinking the blonde’s looks would make him the primary mate sought after by the elite Alphas. She had not been wrong, but despite this, Draco’s match was to Lastrange, a man that already had two mates, not as prestigious as expected for the beautiful son of the Malfoys.

Pansy’s envy of him had diminished after Draco’s marriage as she thought she’d fair better; in a sense, she did, securing a previously unmated man but a Betta instead of an Alpha, and to top it all, a simple minded one, which has made her an unhappy woman despite her best efforts to hide it. Her father had accepted the match because Crabbe senior was a member of Lord Riddle’s inner circle which the Parkinsons aspire to.

Pansy’s envy had been resurrected after her marriage and, Draco suspects, she had gleefully enjoyed his downfall. Now, another victory in her self-proclaimed competition against Draco was at hand as the luncheon celebrates her pregnancy. With the appearance of Blaise, Pansy sees the opportunity to deliver another blow that is too tempting to pass.

“Draco” she says turning to him as Blaise joins them. “Will you be attending the naming ceremony of Blaise’s son? I know it must be difficult for someone… in your situation.” She says while one manicured hand caresses the small bulge of her midsection.

Draco smiles mildly at Pansy, while Blaise responds to her question.

“Of course, the godfather cannot miss the ceremony” Blaise says.

Draco is surprised by the response but does not show it. An acceptance of Draco as godfather means that the title would extend to his mate, who is publicly portrayed as an illegitimate issue of the Black family raised as a mercenary, not exactly respectable.

“I see.” Pansy says, probably as surprise by the proclamation as Draco. Their hostess makes insipid small talk for a few more minutes before quickly moving to interact with other guests and Draco mentally crosses her and her family off the list of potential supporters for Harry. The woman holds too much resentment against Draco, for something Draco could not control, and the Parkinsons have always wanted to enter Lord Riddle’s circle desperately, while the Crabbe’s are blindly loyal to the man.

“Why did she turn into such a cow, you think?” Blaise asks as he watches her go.

“Imagine having to fuck Crabbe and you have your answer.” Draco says taking a sip of his lukewarm mimosa and Blaise’s patrician nose wrinkles in distaste.

“Congratulations by the way.” The blond says to his friend remembering that he has yet to meet his friend’s son because he had been locked up in Lestrange’s house since before the child was born and has been stranded in Eliria with Harry until now.

“Thanks. I hope you accept becoming the godfather, I meant it.” Blaise tells him with a smile as they walk further away from the crowds toward the corner of the large veranda.

“Won’t Theo be outraged that you would suggest an ex-mercenary as godfather to his Heir?”

“Theo has been discussing things with your husband the past two weeks since you moved back to the capital. So, it should be fine.”

This surprises Draco even more than the offer of godfathering the child. Harry had told him nothing about talking to Theodore Nott or even being acquainted with the man. Draco also highly doubts that his father would introduce them. Theo did frequent some of the clubs his father did but their gap in age means that they have very little to do with one another outside the Council chambers. Draco frowns as he considers the amount of time Theodore and Blaise waited for before going to his father and telling him about Draco’s hired champions. Draco arm shoots out and wraps around Blaise’s forearm, nails digging deeply though from a distance it might look like he is simply steering his friend in the direction of the main house.

“What game are you and Theodore playing at?” Draco growls but Blaise does not flinch.

“Draco—”

“Don’t Draco me. How did you find Harry and Ron? Why did you decide to hire them?” he asks as he quickly moves them into the house.

“I—”

“You fucking sold me to them,” Draco says throwing his friend into one the elegant sitting rooms that is empty. He quickly shuts the door, not taking his eyes off Blaise for a moment. “I want to know what you gained from this.” Draco says.

“I…” Blaise’s eyes close a moment before they open in defeat. “I don’t know, Draco.” He says and Draco wants to slap him.

“You don’t know. That’s your answer?” He says incredulous.

“Theo knows Harry. I don’t know from where, but when I told him you needed help and were looking to get someone to fight for you…Black and Weasley appeared two days later. I asked if we should maybe look for more champions but Theo said…He said they would win for sure, that Black…I don’t know Draco, he just insisted that they were enough and it had to be them.” Blaise finishes raising his arms in a show of surrender.

Draco freezes on the spot with his back leaning against the door. Theo _knows_ , his mind whispers. Knows who Harry is or knows something along those lines but he definitely knows something. Draco looks at Blaise, the man that he has considered his only true friend for years. The man he had trusted to save him and who had a much larger part of blame concerning the situation Draco finds himself in. Blaise had not even bothered to ask, to insist, to find out _why_ Theo took the decision he took.

“You just didn’t bother to ask him why? You couldn’t be bothered to at least find out why? Theodore commands and you obey? I _trusted_ you to help me!” Draco says and is horrified to hear his voice crack.

“I asked and insisted but…He’s my Alpha, Draco. I…how was I supposed to betray him?!” Blaise responds with desperation.

“Betraying me was fine, though!” Draco yells. He knows what he demands of Blaise is unfair. After all, Draco embroiled his entire family with Harry’s scheme because Harry is his Alpha. He is following Harry’s plan despite his certainty that they will end up dead. He is recruiting people to support his husband; people that might very well end up dead as well if they fail, all because Harry is his _Alpha_.

Until Harry, Draco had not been truly bonded and would never have understood Blaise’s dilemma, but now he does understand. Draco knows that it is hypocritical of him to accuse Blaise of being deceitful when he is lying to the entire world about who his mate really is, but what Blaise did still _hurts_. It’s a visceral reaction to realizing that the only person not related to him by blood that he had chosen to trust had, for whatever reason, failed him. It hurt and Draco cannot help it.

Without another word, the blond turns and leaves the room. He quickly moves to the veranda and makes polite excuses for having to leave the party early. When they leave the Parkinson mansion his mother asks him what happened. To this Draco replies “I need to talk to Harry,” and nothing more.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite his anger, Draco makes his way very carefully into the Black Manor. He keeps his movements precise in an effort to exert control over his anger by taming the restless energy that runs through his limbs. He moves into the gloomy foyer and takes a small sniff but he does not need the confirmation from his nose, the light pull within him tells him that Harry is in the building.

Draco leisurely removes his outer cloak and his leather gloves as he makes his way towards the study in which Harry had been sequestered with Lucius and his other allies making plans in the past few weeks. Without knocking, Draco pushes open the double doors and finds Harry sitting behind the desk with documents spread all over the wooden surface before him. For a moment, as he sits behind an imposing desk, lord of his domain, Harry reminds Draco of his father and even of Lestrange, the reminder is not a positive one, and for a moment, Draco wonders if it would be better to pretend he knows nothing about Nott. He wonders if by having this discussion he might uncover something about his mate that he doesn’t want to know.

For one, Draco is sure that Harry had made an agreement with Nott before the _Tribuens Virum_ and he had manipulated the situation the entire time. Draco is scared because he realizes that even when he had been planning to hire his own fighters, thinking to manipulate the situation to his advantage, he had not been in control of his fate, not even the little bit he had thought. No, _Harry_ had been in control even then. Harry had stolen the little autonomy Draco had long before he bonded him or married him.

As Draco contemplates his situation, Harry looks calmly at him from his sit behind the desk. The Alpha doesn’t act surprised or impatient. He does not demand an explanation as to why his mate has apparently frozen on the spot a couple of steps into his office. He looks every inch the Alpha, Draco thinks. Draco had pegged Harry as an Alpha whose status radiated around him since he saw him in the arena, yet he had not been afraid of him then or since until now. He had always believed that Harry was physically stronger than himself but was consoled by the fact that he, Draco, was surely smarter. Despite the clues that suggested that Harry was strategic in his movements, Draco had stubbornly held the belief that if need be he could control his Alpha, manipulate him if things became too much. Now, he wants to slap himself for voluntarily blinding himself to the reality. Draco never appreciated innocence or ignorance, traits that blind one to the realities of the world, but he had succumbed to both willingly.

“You made an agreement with Theodore Nott.” He finally says casually and moves into the office. He sits himself comfortably in one of the armchairs before the office, crossing one long leg over the other and resting his elbows at his sides, interlacing his fingers.

“Yes.” Harry says nodding slightly.

“Do you see why this might bother me?” Draco asks him. Tilting his head slightly, a sign Harry knows means he is upset.

“I didn’t tell you because…Draco I don’t want you to think that your friends betrayed you. They didn’t.”

“I’m here bonded to you and on a mission I never wanted to participate in. My family is now also embroiled and all this is the result of Theodore choosing you as my champion. I might end up dead, more likely than not in fact, and so might my family. Those are grounds to accuse him and Blaise of betrayal I’d say.” The Omega reasons and waits for the Alpha’s response.

“They don’t know who I am. They didn’t sell you out to a Potter.” Harry says relaxing into his own sit and looking Draco in the eyes.

“But they did sell me out.” Draco concludes.

Harry takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before getting up and moving around his desk to stand before the Omega. He leans back into his desk and looks at his disgruntled mate.

“If you want to think of it that way.” He tells the blond.

“ _If I want_? Should I feel guilty for thinking badly of them when they so obviously manipulated me, used me?! Whatever the reason or to whomever they sold me to they still did so. What? Should I forget all this?” Draco asks, his anger giving his voice a guttural edge.

“They didn’t know who I am. As far as they are concerned I am Harry Black, illegitimate son of Regulus, nothing more.” Harry repeats.

“Then why did Theodore insist that you fight for me and no one else? What did you promise him?” Draco asks as he glares up at the Alpha.

“How much do you know about the Notts?” Harry asks him, and Draco wants to scream in frustration. This habit of his mate to change the subject at random moments was beginning to become really bothersome, but he knows that Harry tends to reveal a lot of things when he asks questions like these.

Draco thinks about the Notts for a moment pulling all the pertinent information he knows about the eastern power house.

“They have control over the Eastern ports of Astrodorst and Emmott. They are rich, old, have a good sized army very loyal to them and…were neutral during the Clash, why?” He demands.

“You’re right.” Harry says as he moves to sit in the armchair next to his mate’s.

“The Notts have had a spot of trouble lately though. Gabriel Nott died almost a year ago, some say prolonged illness and others say poison. Theodore Nott believes the second.” Draco filters the situation, trying to connect it to Harry and Harry’s purpose.

“Theodore thinks Riddle killed his father.” Draco concludes, and Harry nods to confirm the correctness of his answer.

“Riddle had been pressing Nott senior to join his consolidation for years, not strenuously, he had bigger fish to catch, your father among them. When the Clash begun and all the problems came about in the North and West, he gave up on Nott to deal with the Potters and the houses that supported my father.”

“But the Notts never objected to any of his decisions in the Council, no one dares object.” Draco says. Harry snorts at this.

“That’s what your father and others will have everyone believe. They want the masses to think that the Council now is a peaceful group of old farts that do nothing but congratulate themselves on keeping the peace. It’s better to have people think Riddle has everything under control and is all powerful. The truth is there is as much opposition as there’s always been. This is politics Draco, no matter how much they fear Riddle some will oppose him in order to advance their own agendas, though Nott senior didn’t try to. It’s not that Riddle doesn’t have any opposition, it’s that he is killing his opposition off or intimidating them into silence.”

“The fact that Lord Riddle kills his enemies is no secret.” Draco replies.

“But that he is killing his allies is.” Harry says in return, turning more fully toward his mate.

“Gabriel Nott refused and made any excuse he could not to join Riddle’s group. He gave up his position in the Council and moved back East permanently. He dedicated his life to the ports and getting rich but never occupied his seat in the Council, which could have helped him pass legislation in his favor. Nor did he ever occupy his house in the capital after Riddle became supreme councilor as it were.” Harry explains.

“He knew, Draco. Gabriel Nott knew what Riddle was doing with his associates’ magic but was too afraid after the Potter massacre to say anything. Also, he didn’t want Riddle to have access to the eastern ports and his money, or his army. Riddle has been trying to launch a campaign against Verdean for years but without the east backing him…” Harry makes an insignificant gesture indicting the absolute failure that a campaign against their Western neighbors would be without Eastern support.

“So, you are saying that Lord Riddle had Gabriel Nott assassinated hoping that Theodore would be more amendable and more open handed with the eastern resources.”

“Yea, but all he managed was to make Theodore paranoid. Theodore is sure Riddle had his father killed and unlike some Heirs is not at all grateful to the man. He is angry and terrified, especially after the birth of his son.”

“How do you know all this? How did Theo contact you?”

“He didn’t. We contacted him.”

“How—?”

“Remus.”

“Remus?”

“He was Gabriel Nott’s healer and was the healer that delivered Blaise’s son. Remus lives in Astrodorst. When Nott senior died and Nott explained his fears after having a breakdown, Remus contacted us. We approached Nott, gave him some artifacts that have helped keep him and his family safe.”

“Did Remus poison Gabriel Nott?” Draco asks. It’s a fair question considering how convenient the turn of events is for Harry and his cronies.

“We are opportunistic but we’re not murderers, Draco.” Harry tells him, annoyance clearly coloring his words. “We approached him and offered him protection and assistance.”

“You don’t waste an opportunity, do you?” Draco asks Harry resentfully.

“Draco, Theodore is not crazy or paranoid. Riddle has already made several overturns suggesting he wants Theo to join the inner circle. Riddle is quickly draining the magic from all his old associates, he needs new blood and he also wants the political clout the Notts have in the East. He will push Theo to accept or he will get Theo out of the way and try again with the next Heir.”

“Oh, yes. And out of the goodness of your heart you decided to help. No, you did not. You took advantage of Theodore’s situation and manipulated him and Blaise and through them me and through me my father. You see these people as pawns, you are using Theo and all of us. You are not so different from Riddle!” Draco accuses moving out of his seat and away from Harry.

Harry quickly pushes out of his seat, his anger visible in the tension of his muscles, and for a moment, Draco is afraid that blows will be the answer to his accusation.

“You think I am in any way similar to that monstrosity mascaraing as a human being?” Harry asks as he prowls closer to Draco.

“You think I am capable of locking young mates with their children into a burning house and stand outside waiting for them to burn to death?” He asks.

“You think I’d poison a man that does nothing but protect his own or suck the life out of those that trust me? That’s the kind of person you think I am?” He asks, stopping inches from Draco and waiting for an answer from his mate.

“I think.” Draco says looking into the eyes of his mate. “I think you want revenge for what he did. I think you use people and you might not kill anyone yourself but you put us all in danger. You forced my father to accept your terms to name a Potter his Heir not a Black, making him complicit to your plans, and you did the same with me. You’ve also made Blaise and Theo complicit and they don’t even know it. You have chosen to do these things, to manipulate and use us; you forced a _bond_ on me. Things will get more difficult from here on and you will lie and use even more people and you will put them all in danger and you don’t care because your revenge is more important.” Draco says slowly, clearly choosing each word carefully hoping to cause the most damage. He might not be able to extricate himself from this life, he might not even be able to betray Harry, but he does not need to agree with his mate’s choices.

Harry looks at the man standing before him, resentment shining in the gray eyes, anger simmering beneath it. Does Draco hate him? He cannot tell. Maybe. Is Harry willing to accept it if his mate ends up hating him? The notion is not a comfortable one, but he cannot stop what has started. Riddle is a destructive force that will forever consume the lives of others if he is not stopped, and yes, Harry wants revenge for his dead. He wants it more that he wants to live for himself and is willing to sacrifice more than he thought he needed to in order to achieve his goal. If he loses Draco’s trust or whatever affection the Omega might have for him in the future, then he will lose them. He will not mourn the loss of something he never had, instead he will continue to mourn for what he did have and lost because of Riddle, his family.

“Your reasoning is based on the misguided understanding that whatever Riddle has done is in the past. It’s not. He will continue to kill and destroy as he has done with my family and with yours.” Harry tells the Omega.

“You might be angry about the Notts” Harry continues as he moves away from his mate and towards his desk. “But you only have your naiveté to blame.” He says as he sits behind his desk again.

“The Notts don’t own you loyalty and you were a fool to expect it. Your father must have taught you that loyalty only exists among the pack. If you chose to trust in those outside your pack that was your mistake not theirs.” Harry finishes before turning back to his documents.

Draco stands there a moment, anger blazing through him. Yes, his father had taught him not to trust anyone outside the family, outside the pack. But he had been desperate and pack or not he cared and trusted Blaise. Blaise was his friend. Despite this, in trusting Blaise explicitly Draco had made a mistake and Harry sat behind his office pointing Draco’s foolishness to him as his father would have done, and the Omega hated him for it. Without saying anything more to the Alpha who had already returned to his papers, Draco leaves the room, the seeds of resentment and mistrust growing within him.


	8. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may contain context that might be triggering or uncomfortable (nothing explicit).

Cool champagne in crystal flouts, perfumes that tease the senses, music that whispers in the background, played by the orchestra several feet away. The Notts had spared no expense in commemorating the celebration of the birth of their Heir. Silk was the cloth of the day. Everywhere Harry looks its one shade or another of the sensual material flowing about in the breeze of the constant cooling charms that were set up to repel the summer heat. There is no loud laughter under the elaborate tents that have been set up to accommodate the four hundred or so guests deemed important enough to merit an invitation. They all lollop about in such a _delicate_ way, Harry thinks as he observes discreetly. They laugh in a precise pitch, hold the translucent stems of their champagne flutes with such daintiness that Harry believes a strong wind could carry them all away, massive tends and all.

It all looks so…perfect, like a dance so well-choreographed that the movements of the group seem _almost_ natural. But, it is never _quite_ there. It’s a little too perfect, a little too coordinated to be the expression of real enjoyment. Harry thinks that if one is raised in such an environment, one would not notice anything amiss. But, if perchance, one has the opportunity to see people who do not mistrust each other gather to celebrate, the difference is striking. Cooling charms, the best champagne money can buy, and music provided by some of the most renowned musicians of their time cannot make the place feel any less like a pit filled with vipers ready to strike. There are at least three plots that Harry knows about, because he’s in one way or another involved in them, unfolding right now. Those are the ones he knows about, but he has no doubt that most, if not all, of the guests have an agenda of their own. Whether they take this opportunity to further it or not is irrelevant.

The situation seems preposterous to him. Mortal enemies are sat at adjoining tables, families that own more than one death to each other. People that have attempted to assassinate one another sit next to each other munching on canapés. The ability of these people to dissemble is truly awe inspiring. As he thinks this, Harry turns to look at the man standing by his side with his delicate fingers caressing Harry’s forearm as his hand rests in the crook of his elbow. To anyone that looks, Draco seems relaxed in the company of his Alpha, laughing and chatting but never moving far away from Harry’s side. Watching him, Harry almost forgets that for the past week they have slept in separate chambers, that they rarely eat together, and when they do, the silence is so loaded that digestion becomes a painful affair.

Draco is truly admirable in his ability to act. During the naming ceremony he had smiled at Blaise and Theodore as they placed their small son into his arms. He stood proudly next to Harry as the priestess said the blessings and declared little Aaron a son of the gods. Draco rocked the child gently from side to side to quiet him down as the priestess continued the ceremony. He held the child close as Harry lit the five candles in his stead. He spoke clearly as he recited the oaths and Harry repeated them as indicated, and Draco smiled at him gently when he forgot something. During the ceremony, it felt as if Draco and he were mates, not in the formal sense of the word but in a much more significant way. It was quite disappointing to see the smile fade on Draco’s face whenever they were not under scrutiny by the other guests.    

For a few weeks, Harry had hoped that he and Draco could have a mating different than this, but had never really expected it. He knows and knew that they would never be content together. How could they? Harry knows that he has used and manipulated the Omega even before meeting him, so he is not surprised by Draco’s resentment. What has surprised him is the time during which the blond seemed content in their mating despite knowing Harry’s real parentage. He still cannot understand why Draco pretended to accept the mating. Maybe it was the sex, or the freedom he enjoyed as Harry knows Lestrange had kept him on a short leash. Whatever it may have been, it was over, and Draco has distanced himself as much as possible just as Harry had expected him to do. Despite all this, Harry is shocked now as Draco smiles at him and caresses his arm to realize that he has missed the attentions of the Omega, more so than he had previously thought.

Harry’s plastered smile fades for a moment when he feels Draco’s distress shoot through their bond. The blond has been brilliant until now, but suddenly he falls silent, and as Harry follows his gaze to the point where Lestrange and his second mate stand together, Harry sees why. Lestrange and his mate, Albion, Harry remembers, stand close to Pansy Crabbe and her parents, all but Albion and Pansy, who are obviously carrying, hold delicate champagne flouts. Lestrange is staring at them from across the tent intently. Harry cannot manage to restrain a slow growl as he notices the other Alpha, and Draco’s hand tightens two fingers discreetly pinching his skin.

“Don’t.” Draco says, looking into a different direction and taking a small sip from his drink.

“He has done nothing to present a challenge. If you try anything openly here it’ll create more problems than we can handle.” Draco continues with a smile on his lips, as if he were discussing something completely innocuous with his mate.

“I know.” Harry says making a valiant effort to calm himself. “It’s just difficult.”

“You can get over your Alpha possessiveness. He fucked me first, that’ll never change.” Draco says, for a moment letting go of his happy charade when no one but Harry can see or hear him.

“He also beat and tortured you. When the time comes for him to die, he’ll die for abusing you not for having sex with you.” Harry says, the thought alone making him furious.

“What? Doesn’t it bother you that I was mated before?” Draco says confused, any Alpha he can think of would have been bothered by the fact that their Omega had not been virginal.

“Why would it? I wasn’t a virgin either.” Harry replies still at the mercy of his anger. Draco frowns at his response but then remembers Harry’s comment about Lestrange’s mistreatment.

“How do you know—” The blond says but cuts off the sentence and tries again.

“What do you mean about his treatment of me?” The Omega asks. Yes, Lestrange tortured him but Draco had _never_ said anything about it, ever. He doubts he will ever be able to talk about it.

“I meant what I said.” Harry says, the anger making his voice sharper than necessary. Before Draco can demand further explanation, a voice coming from his right side almost makes him jump.

“Draco.” Lestrange says. Draco feels the word crawl over his skin. Lestrange says his name breathlessly, in the way he used to say it when buried in Draco’s body as he rutted; it makes the blond tense as if expecting a blow and his stomach roll uncomfortably.

Harry takes a deep breath and holds it as an assault of unadulterated panic enters his head through his bond, forcing his stomach to constrict in an unpleasant way that makes him nauseous. For a moment, he has to concentrate on preventing his body from transforming, Draco’s panic encouraging his wolf to push toward the surface. He knew that Draco would be uncomfortable in the vicinity of the other Alpha but this reaction…What had Lestrange done to him? Harry thinks. Lestrange will die. Harry has known this for a long time, but Harry has yet to decide how painful his death should be. Going by Draco’s current reaction, it will be a very painful death Harry decides.

Before Lestrange’s raised hand has a chance to touch the blonde’s free elbow, Harry twists bringing Draco behind him in a smooth rotation. The Omega tries with all his might not to be too obvious about hiding behind Harry’s back, but he can hardly stop the instincts rampaging in his head from forcing him to make himself as small a target as possible.

What’s wrong with me?! Draco’s rational mind screams from a little corner inside him. He’s not a coward, not like this, not this much. He has faced Lestrange alone many times and survived, the fear then was not this bad. Lestrange is not his Alpha, Draco can use magic against him if he wants to, they are also in public, so the man can’t do anything to him with all these witnesses around, and above all, Harry is here. His Alpha is with him and that’s enough for Draco’s wolf to remain calm. But it’s not enough for Draco. The moment he saw Lestrange again, it was like all the people that surround them disappeared. The moment he heard that voice, he found himself back in that bedroom in the Lestrange manor, back in that bed, back with _that_ man, alone with him. No, no, no, no, he thinks.

“Move away.” Harry says to the man standing before him. There is no pretending, not with Draco’s fear assaulting his mind like a desperate man banging against a door begging to be let in, begging for safety.

“I am aware that you know little of polite society, but—” Lestrange begins, giving Harry a momentary look of disgust before returning his attention to the figure hunched behind the young Alpha, not that he can see the blond but he still tries, pretending that Harry is not blocking access to the Omega.

“You will stay away from my mate, or I will kill you right now.” Harry says clearly enough for a number of guest to hear him. He really shouldn’t have made such a public declaration but fuck it, he thinks, trying to concentrate over the smoldering fear radiating from the bond.

“ _Your_ mate?” Lestrange mocks. He pushes his magic into calling Draco.

He had never done so before, but he enjoys the idea of showing the mercenary that his mating is nothing but a piece of paper, a worthless charade, while Rodolphus’s union with the Omega is sacred, permanent, Draco _belongs_ to him. Rodolphus smiles at the thought: _I had him first and no matter how the mercenary pretends to own the Omega, he does not_. Rodolphus decides he will remind the mercenary that Draco is and will always be his. He waits a moment or two for Draco to move from behind the brunet and come to his side, only to realize that the blond is making no attempt to do so at all.

“Are you trying to call to _my_ mate?” Harry asks while trying to offer Draco some support through their bond.

Harry concentrates on not morphing into his wolf. He cannot afford to attack Lestrange without a challenge. If he does, he’ll be apprehended and won’t be able to hide who he really is. He needs to maintain the glamours or risk being discovered as a Potter, and he needs to follow the plan. Challenging a Council member and getting arrested for it is _not_ part of the plan. Mercenaries cannot challenge Noble class Alphas, especially members of the high Council. The punishment for such crime is incarceration and in extreme cases castration. Should he issue a challenge and then kill the man, the punishment is death. Even if Harry is in the cusp of being recognized as a Noble, he is not a Council member, so Lestrange is still out of reach. But, there are ways around this. Harry might not be considered Lestrange’s social equal and thus it would be illegal for him to challenge the other Alpha, but should _Lestrange_ challenge _him,_ then Harry would only be defending himself.

Harry takes advantage of Lestrange’s momentary surprise at his failure to summon Draco. The young Alpha comments loudly so that as many guests as possible hear him.

“You cannot summon someone else’s mate, _Lord_ Lestrange.” He points out patronizingly. Harry takes a calming breath before moving to the side. As soon as Draco finds himself exposed, completely at the mercy of his instincts in his panicked state, he moves instinctively behind Harry again, portraying one of the common behaviors of Omega’s when stressed, the tendency to seek the protection of their Alpha.

The spike in Draco’s panic when he came face to face with Lestrange makes Harry’s teeth grind but the result of Draco’s instinctive reaction is immediate. Eyes widen at the realization that Draco is not simply married to his mercenary mate but truly bonded to the young Alpha. Whispers of surprise move through the circle of guests that are lucky enough to be present for this confrontation and who will delight in retelling the events to those unfortunate ones to be in other tents at the crucial moment. Draco Malfoy is truly bonded to the mercenary that won him, everyone suddenly realizes. This information seems to have paralyzed Lestrange in his tracks, and Harry gives him a vicious smile.

Draco is bonded to Harry and as the gossips move to the inevitable two possible conclusions as to how this might happen, they all know that neither possibility reflects well on Lestrange. Either Lestrange is not powerful enough to bond a Noble Omega even when a _mercenary_ managed to do it, suggesting the man is magically impotent, or, worse for the older Alpha, Draco became pregnant by his new Alpha, which means Lestrange is physically impotent and that would bring into question the parentage of Albion’s new pup and even his eldest son’s. Both are extremely humiliating for the older Alpha; there is no question that the Alpha will be the laughing stock of the city by tea time tomorrow when all those not present here now will be notified of the scandalous news.

As the realization of the situation becomes more and more apparent, Lestrange’s face darkens with rage.

“You are pretending, you little whore.” He says as he tries to move around Harry to reach Draco only to be pushed roughly back by the brunet.

“An Omega can’t _pretend_ or ignore his Alpha. Draco doesn’t respond to you because he is bonded to me, not just mated, but completely bonded _to_ _me._ ”

“That is not possible—”

“It’s common enough when impotency is an issue.” Harry says flippantly and almost cannot contain a smile when Lestrange growls and others gasp at his statement.

“How dare you. You insignificant mongrel. Know your placed _bastard_.” Lestrange says and tries once more to summon Draco. He growls his frustration when he fails a second time.

“My place is besides my bonded mate.” Harry replies. “Your impotency is not my or Draco’s affair anymore.” He concludes and moves as if to take Draco away.

“I am not!” Lestrange says, cutting in front of Harry and almost frothing at the mouth. He cannot afford to have this happen. His ability to maintain his position at the Council, his status as patriarch of his family, the legitimacy of his Heir will all be questionable if he allows the mercenary to walk away after making such a comment. People will think back to his other childless mating, his bond with Bella, and think that _maybe_ it was _his_ fault she never conceived. They’ll think about his only progeny, Izor, and consider that _maybe_ he can only produce an Omega because he is not powerful enough to produce an Alpha to carry the family name, or that _maybe_ he did not breed at all, that Albion sought the help of another. They’ll look at Albion’s belly and wonder if his Omega might not have sought a lover in desperation to produce an Heir. His brother, Rabastan, will contest his son’s claim as Heir, might even contest Rodolphus’s claim as patriarch under the pretense that Rodolphus is magically or physically impotent and incapable of continuing the family line. _This cannot happen!_

“You lie with intention to injure me and mine, for this insult I will fight you, and you will die.” He tells Harry. With no other alternative, Rodolphus stands before the mercenary and disgraces his status as Noble Alpha by issuing a formal challenge to a man below his station. He has no other choice. The embarrassment of fighting a mercenary in a formal challenge he can live with, but the destruction of his honor, status, and family line, he cannot. He consoles himself with the knowledge that none of his killings have given him as much satisfaction as killing the mongrel will provide him.

Harry stands looking at Lestrange’s determined blue eyes. The brunet feels every muscle in his body finally relax. Lestrange has fallen.

“I accept your challenge.” Harry says, promising death to one of his many enemies.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you _completely_ insane?!” Sirius asks Harry the day after. The older Alpha turns in frustration to look at his mate sitting across the kitchen table, as if to demand Remus explain at what point Harry had become deranged.

With Sirius’s desperate eyes focused on him, Remus feels compelled to comment. He turns to look at Harry who stands by the counter across from them, his arms crossed over his chest. The young man refuses to look at him or Sirius, and Remus is reminded of the little boy that screamed every night because of the nightmares that hunted him and wouldn’t look at him when he went into his room because he was too embarrassed at having woken him. Remus knows those nightmares still hunt him. For all intents and purposes, Harry is Sirius's and Remus's cub, the only child they could have together since being a Beta makes it impossible for Remus to carry. Remus looks at Sirius and back at Harry who is waiting defensibly for Remus’s reprimand to follow Sirius’s. Remus decides to try a less aggressive approach than Sirius.

“Harry, challenging Lestrange was—” he begins but the younger Alpha immediately interrupts him.

“I didn’t challenge him, he challenged me—”

“Don’t give us that bullshit!” Sirius yells standing up.

“Sirius! Yelling won’t change anything.” Remus tells him exasperated with his mate.

Sensing the lack of support from Remus, Sirius turns to look at Ron and Hermione who are standing side to side against the kitchen sink and points to Harry. “Do something about this!” He demands of his godson’s best friends.

“There’s nothing to do at this point.” Hermione says before taking a sip from the mug she holds. “The challenge has been made and must be met. If he backs down, he’ll be publicly shunned either for libeling a Noble or for being a coward. Either way, Harry’ll never be able to become a member of the Council.” She says looking calmly at Sirius. Sirius doesn’t know why he bothers asking Hermione to take part in his indignation with Harry’s actions, the woman is always so _rational_ ; it’s completely exasperating.

“If he goes ahead with this, we’ll have Riddle breathing down our necks and we’re not ready for him yet. It’ll scare off all our new contacts!” Sirius says, his anger barely contained.

“Yes, but pulling back now is impossible. The challenge has been made.” Hermione says, her tone indicating how displeased she is with the whole situation.

Sirius closes his eyes for a moment before turning to Harry again. “What possessed you to do something like this? After all the years we’ve spend planning and preparing for this…Harry we have a plan… what’s your problem?” He says, his arms lifting in a supplicating motion.

“It’s done now, so that’s that.” Harry tells him before moving out of the kitchen and making his way to the front door and out into the darkness of the field that surrounds the cottage. He cannot stay inside a moment longer, they’ve been arguing for hours. It was still light out when the discussion begun and now, well passed sunset it’s the same questions and the same answers. It’s done, there no more to say about it, he thinks frustrated.

He walks purposefully into the darkness for a while and hears the dry grass crunch under his feet with each step. He wants to shift into his wolf and run. He wants to drown his mind in the animal’s instincts, in its simplistic needs, in its straightforward existence. For a moment, he wonders if other people don’t try to shift and remain in their wolf forms forever. He had wanted to as a child. To be forever a wolf, he thought that would keep everything away. But, it doesn’t work that way. As one is compelled to shift into their wolf form they are also compelled out of it. The body will remain in one form only for so long before reverting back to the other, and as the human form is the dominant one, maintaining the wolf for longer than a few weeks is impossible. But he still wished he could sometimes. Although, he feels that if he tried to stay in wolf form for a long duration these days, he would miss his mate too much to manage it. The thought makes him abruptly stop as indecision overwhelms him. Should he walk to the left? To the right? Straight forward?

He can’t decide. He could return to the capital and the Black Manor, but he cannot deal with Draco at this point. The blond had said nothing when Harry dropped him at the manor before dissaparating again yesterday. He could return to the cottage and try to explain to Sirius why he is destroying the plans they lay out over several years. He could stay in this field and let it all be.

He could, only if his dead would let _him_ be. But they won’t. They scream at him when he sleeps, reminding him how they are trapped in a burning house. Sometimes he dreams of his mother. She hugs him, his face hides in the crook of her neck and her hair tumbles over him like a curtain keeping the world at bay. But, when he takes a deep breath, instead of the soft perfume he knows his mother used, his lungs fill with the smell of smoke. The arms that hold him turn into flames that consume them both. He burns with her. He cannot remember what she really smelled like, there’s always only smoke.

“You’re really bad at explaining what’s in your head.” Ron says as he reaches Harry.

Harry is not surprised by the arrival; even though the other was downwind, he could hear Ron’s steps approach as the redhead walked over the dry grass.

“There’s nothing to explain and nothing more to express.” Harry says, glad that it’s Ron and not Sirius that followed him out.

“Cuase there’s nothing in your head, huh.” Ron says trying to look at his friend’s outline in the darkness.

“Well, Draco would agree with you there.” Harry says smiling.

“And that’s what this’s about. Draco. Are you jealous because Lestrange had him first?” Ron asks.

“No, I’m not. It’s not like Draco has fond memories of the man to be jealous over. And, I didn’t challenge Lestrange, Ron. He challenged me.” Harry replies tiredly.

“Harry…” Ron sighs, and Harry can’t see him but imagines him running his fingers through his hair as he does when tired. “You might as well have challenged him. With all the crap you said you left him no alternative. This is going to put Riddle on high alert.”

“How do you know what I said?” Harry asks.

“If you said half the stuff they say you did, it’s shocking he didn’t attack you then and there. Impotent both physically and magically? That his brother might be the one that pupped his other mate...” Ron tells him, giving Harry a good idea of how the gossip has inflated the whole thing.

“It will be an opening to the Council if Lestrange’s place empties.” He jokes with the redhead.

“Haha, that’s a good one, pull the other. You know those posts are hereditary within the family. Lestrange dies and another Lestrange will take his place.” They both stay quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the rare cool sea breeze that runs through the field.

“Why are you doing all this for a mate that can’t give you children?” Ron asks in a low tone as if the question is slipping through his lips rather than being voiced intentionally.

“He’s my mate Ron. I should protect him.”

“Lestrange can’t do anything to him anymore. He’s your mate and he is bonded to you. What need do you have to kill Lestrange? Or why now? It could wait until we are in a better position. Get you into the Council and challenge him then…” Ron reasons.

Harry pushes a frustrated breath through his teeth as his fingers deep into his hair pulling for a moment.

“You don’t know how frightened he was when he saw him.” He tells his friend.

“It was like he was screaming in my head and instinct took over. Lestrange really hurt him, and it bothers me. I want him dead as much as I want Riddle dead.” Harry confesses surprised to realize that he felt such ire against Lestrange.

“Why?”

“Because he hurt my mate, Ron! Wouldn’t you do the same for Hermione?” Harry demands exasperated with everyone and everything. He had already dealt with Lucius accusing him of being stupid, he’d dealt with Sirius’s full on explosion, and he still had Draco waiting for him, another great discussion waiting to happen, he is sure.

“Of course I’d challenge anyone that hurts her, but not ’cause she’s just my mate. I love Hermione. Even if I wasn’t bonded to her I’d kill for her. I did kill for her even then if you remember.”

Harry did remember. His friend loved Hermione long before she was his bonded mate. He fought to protect her even when she wanted nothing to do with him. Harry suspects that even if Hermione failed to produce children, Ron would not take another mate, which is saying something considering how much Ron wants a family, almost as badly as Harry does.

“Do you love your mate?” Ron asks him his voice betraying how awkward the question makes him feel.

“I might care for him more than I should.” Harry says, frowning into the darkness again. It is easier to confess to the darkness than to Ron.

Ron snorts at his words. “ _Might_? Harry, I think you’re well beyond _might_. And don’t get me wrong. I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. Normally, it would be great if you fell in love with your mate, that’s how it should be, but with all this going on…it’ll be hard for you, for both of you. What’ll happen when you take a second mate to have children with?” He asks of the brunet.

“Let’s see if I live long enough to have time for children first.” Harry says not wanting to consider another problem just yet. He stays a while longer with Ron before deciding to return to the capital. He asks Ron to tell the others he is leaving, preferring to avoid Sirius for the time being.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry pauses momentarily on his way to his bedroom once he returns to the Black Manor. After the short instant of surprise he opens the door to find, as his senses had warned him, Draco waiting inside. He is not surprised to see him because he had smelled his scent before entering the room, yet he _is_ surprised because Draco has not slept in this room with Harry for a week, since their argument after the Parkinson luncheon.

“Where were you?” Draco asks as soon as Harry opens the door.

“Eliria.” He says as way of explanation and Draco relaxes his stance. The Omega looked like he was ready to fight, but now the wind has left his sails.

“Where did you think I was?” Harry asks but the blond doesn’t dignify the question with an answer.

“I want to talk about the challenge.” He says instead taking a combative tone again.

“What about it?” Harry says as he moves fully into the room and closes the door. He really doesn’t want to have another conversation about the challenge. It is what it is. The challenge has been made and he will face Lestrange in the arena—

“I want you to cede your place to me.” Draco says interrupting Harry’s thought.

“What?” Harry says because he can’t have possibly heard that right.

“I want to fight in the arena in your place against Lestrange.” Draco says very clearly enunciating every word precisely.

“Are you mad?!” Harry yells not being able to restrain his reaction. “You’re an Omega.” He tells Draco as if the blond was not aware of this and needs to be informed.

“Yes, and I want to fight in the arena. It’s not illegal, and Omegas have fought before.”

“Not against Alphas, they haven’t.” Is Harry’s sharp retort.

“Let me fight him.” Draco says coming as close as he can to begging.

“Draco you can’t fight an Alpha, you just can’t. I can’t let you do that.” Harry says trying to make him see reason. Until now, Draco had always maintain a rational state of mind, even when upset or angry. For him to be blindsided like this is shocking to Harry. Does he really hate Lestrange so much that he wants to kill him himself. Isn’t it enough that Harry will do it for him?

“Do you hate him that much?” Harry asks.

“It’s not about hate. It’s…” Draco walks from one side of the room to another frustration making it impossible to stay still. “It’s about control.” He finally says.

“You have to let me do this Harry. You have taken my life from me, you have decided what happens to me since before I even met you. Give me this. Give me this.” He tells the Alpha.

“I can’t let you put yourself in danger.” Harry tells him. “He’s an Alpha. You won’t win.”

“He is a magically depleted Alpha according to you. If he is as depleted as that, then he won’t have control over his wolf as he would normally—”

“That won’t make the wolf any less vicious.” Harry cuts him off.

“I can use magic even if he is stronger physically, I’ll have the advantage.”

“Draco…”

“I’m trained in using magic when transformed. Until I presented everyone thought I was an Alpha and my father decided to train me years before I presented. I can fight, and I can win. Harry, damn it Harry! _Give me this_.”

Harry doesn’t even know why they are having this conversation. He cannot allow Draco to fight in the arena. He can’t let his mate fight to the death against an Alpha, no matter how magically depleted the Alpha might be. Beyond that, the scandal it would create for an Alpha to step down from a challenge and allow his _Omega_ to take his place… He doesn’t want to even think what Sirius’s reaction would be if he did something so momentously stupid. There is just no way he can do it. His instincts are against it, his logic is against it. He looks at Draco seeing his delicate features, his slim wrists, his smooth skin that scream wealth and cannot imagine him fighting against Lestrange, much less winning such a fight.

“No. Draco I can’t put you in danger like that. It’s beyond me.” Harry tells him and hopes the Omega understands.

Draco stares at the brunet for a second before exploding into hysterical laughter. He laughs and laughs until he can’t stand anymore, his knees buckle and he gracelessly plops on the bed. He looks at Harry still chuckling, wiping a slight wetness from the side of his eyes.

“Putting me in danger is beyond you…” he repeats Harry’s words and can’t control another bout of chuckles that escapes him.

“Beyond you…What farcical bullshit.” He says looking at the brunet that stands before him. The laughter dies and Draco looks at Harry’s serious expression.

“You really believe that.” Draco realizes when Harry says nothing more. “By all the gods! You actually believe it.” He says looking at his mate.

“You shouldn’t do that. Self-delusion is for the weak willed man. You won’t win this game you started if you don’t see reality.” He tells the Alpha all amusement gone from his countenance.

“I am aware that I have put you in danger. I know. I am not delusional despite what you think.” Harry tells him as he moves to sit on one of the armchairs that frame the windows of the bedroom. “But watching you being attacked and doing nothing to stop it or help, that’s what I can’t manage. Draco as soon as you are in any danger I will attack. Any Alpha will when their Omega’s in danger.”

“We have a healthy connection, you can feed me magic if need be—”

“No. I won’t let you fight him.” Harry says, terminating the discussion.

Draco moves off the bed and approaches the door of the room. “I’m not sure if you care one way or another, but if you want me to trust you…” He says to the other man from the doorway. “You can start by trusting me and my choices.” He finishes before quitting the room.

Harry looks out the window into the darkness, wondering if bonding with Draco Malfoy was such a good idea after all.


	9. Resonance

Draco dips his head in the freezing water of the tub a third time. He remains under the water until his chest feels tight and his heartbeat drums loudly in his ears. When the pressure becomes too much, he pushes his head up until his nose is out of the water. His eyes examine the ceiling of the bedroom he has been occupying for the past ten days and he frowns. The Black Manor is really an awful place, he thinks. He begins to imagine all the changes he would make to the place if it were really his home. First, he’d remove the dark wood paneling from the walls and especially from the ceiling of the bedrooms, who puts dark paneling on the ceiling anyway? The distraction helps. Every time his mind wonders from the task of re-imagining the house, he forcefully brings it back to it. He disciplines his mind, not allowing any other thought to enter it but what he might do with the stupid ceiling, what color he would paint the walls, which walls would be thrown down, how many more windows he would add. However, despite his best efforts, whispers in the back of his mind slowly rebel until they become screams of molten heat that run throughout him, and the water is not _nearly_ cold enough to drown them out.

Draco gasps involuntarily, almost swallowing water, when he feels the wave of heat rush through him. Slim hands brake the surface and grab at either side of the claw foot tub. His nails bit into the unyielding surface, his head drops back until his hair is in the water again floating like a halo around his face, his back arches, and his toes curl tightly. Gods, he _needs_. He _aches_ , he is _ravenous_ , he is _empty_. “Harry,” he whimpers not able to control his thoughts while engulfed in the firestorm his heat creates. He wants Harry so much. His body is screaming, he is in full heat but has refused to seek out relief a few doors down were the Alpha is. Draco doesn’t want to think about it, about Harry a few doors down, or in the office, Draco knows he returned to the Black Manor almost an hour ago. He can smell the Alpha, almost sense him.

Harry…Draco can see him in his mind. Harry’s hands, and Harry’s body, and Harry’s…Gods he needs Harry’s cock. It was the most exasperating reality, this need to have the man inside him, to take Harry’s essence and hold it within himself. He had tried to satisfy his heat with his fingers, idiotic move as he well knows from past experience. No matter how often he masturbated the result was the same, he simply becomes more frustrated with no relief in sight. So he begun the baths since yesterday. Baths had provided relief for his heats before he was married and even after when Lestrange would refuse to help him find some release. But now that he has a true bonded mate, his wolf refuses to be appeased with cool water. It wants to rut, and Draco cannot see how much longer he can hold back before crawling his way to Harry. The thought reinforces his determination. He will not give Harry the satisfaction of begging for his attention. He thinks of all the things the Alpha has done, all the lies, all the manipulation, and above all, his refusal to Draco’s single request. One thing that he asks not because he wants but needs to settle things with Lestrange himself.

Draco knows that Harry is being more patient than any other Alpha would with him. He has seen how other Omegas behaved. After he presented, it had been unbearably annoying how submissive they were because he needed to behave in the same way. Draco could never decide whether to be grateful or not to his father and others for treating him as an Alpha before he presented. They should not have allowed him so much liberty but everyone had been so _sure_ that he would be an Alpha.

As a child and a young adult, he had been treated as an autonomous, free thinking and acting individual. He knew that was not the case with Blaise or Pansy who were never allowed to train in combat spells or allowed outside without a chaperone. They had not been able to make plans without permission or speak to people their families had not pre-approved and introduced them to. This was when they did not even know if Blaise would present as a Beta or an Omega. The simple possibility that he might be Omega had made it so that Blaise was taught to obey, to accept, and to submit to the Alpha. None of these restrictions had applied to Draco. After he presented, the shock of being Omega had been nothing to the shock of having all his freedom taken away. Suddenly he could not speak without permission, he could not leave the house without permission and without a chaperone, he could not be alone at _all,_ and his opinions and thoughts were listened to with a patronizing air by others, like grown-ups listening to the fancies of a young child _._ It infuriates Draco to this day and he made a point to fight against it.

Lestrange had accepted his eccentricities while he was infatuated with Draco. But the first slap he gave Draco was for talking out of turn. He had said he would visit Blaise. He was slapped because he told the Alpha he would visit his friend rather than _ask_ him for permission to visit his friend. No one had said anything, even his father had said that Draco _should_ have asked. Draco knows another Alpha would not have even considered that he has a right to complain about his situation, about not being informed about the plans and going-ons that his mate arranges. Another Alpha would have questioned what right an _Omega_ has to question him about his business. Draco would accept his reality if he had not known the freedom to think and act independently before. But even if he tried now, he could not, his instincts would not let him be another submissive Omega.

It’s the wolf. Draco had never been very in tune with his more animalistic side. He found the wolf a simple being with simple needs. But, just because the needs were simple did not make them any less _necessary_. When the wolf wanted, it _wanted_. It played havoc with Draco’s instincts. The first time he experienced the wolf’s determination was his first heat. He had been warned but the desperation with which he wanted and needed an Alpha had completely shocked him. Now the feelings have become a thousand times stronger. With a bonded mate to sense around, the wolf has become unmanageable. It’s all about its needs and it has two needs. His wolf wants to fight Lestrange, it’s something primal within the animal and within Draco, in this he is in tune with the animal. Draco _wants_ to fight Lestarnge. But Harry won’t allow it. No matter how many times they talked or shouted about it, the Alpha has steadfastly refused him. It makes Draco furious, so angry he’d rip the man to shreds if he could, but he can’t even raise his had to slap Harry, which frustrates him even more.

To add insult to injury, his heat started yesterday and suddenly to his wolf all that matters is Harry, or more precisely, what dangles between Harry’s legs. Draco doesn’t really know if it’s his wolf, or his body, or his biology, but he craves Harry so desperately that it hurts him to his bones. He wants the Alpha like nothing _except_ fighting Lestrange. Those two desires reside in his core. They’re all he wants, to kill Lestrange and fuck Harry. These two desires are the obsession his mind returns to no matter what Draco tries to distract himself with. All he can think is kill and fuck, kill and fuck, kill and fuck. Not necessarily in that order. And because Harry won’t let him fight Lestrange, Draco doesn’t want to succumb to his other desire. He doesn’t _want_ to want Harry. He doesn’t want to give the Alpha pleasure, he doesn’t want Harry to enjoy his heat. He doesn’t want to open to the Alpha mentally, emotionally, or physically because Harry takes advantage of it, and every time the Alpha manipulates him, it hurts a little more.

Why, why does he suffer heats, he thinks as he does every time he suffers them. What is the point when nothing comes of it but humiliation? What is the point when he can’t make life, his insides should be dry and dead, or frozen cold, but instead, this heat overwhelms him, running through his veins molten and alive, preparing his body, making him wet and ready as if…as if conception were possible when it’s not. Draco’s tears are invisible on his already wet face and soon they vanish forever, becoming one with the water that surrounds him.

The heat eases slightly and he lets himself sink into the water until his scalp touches the bottom of the tub. When he surfaces again, he hears a knock on the door and his breath catches. _Harry_ , he thinks and the scent of the Alpha coming through the door makes his insides clench reminding him of their emptiness and his need. He freezes waiting and the knock comes again accompanied by a muffled “Draco.” Draco says nothing, his knuckles go white from the pressure with which he holds onto the edge of the tub. He listens intently, waiting for the other man to say something.

“I know you’re there Draco. I…Draco, it’s going to get really painful soon if we don’t deal with your heat.” He hears the Alpha say. The door isn’t locked but Harry makes no attempt to open it. Draco is both grateful and exasperated by that fact.

“Draco—”

“You want to do me the favor of stuffing me with your cock?” Draco asks but the sarcasm he wants to infuse his words with is lost in the growl of need that escapes with the sentence. He begins to shake, his body fighting to move towards Harry while his mind forces him to stay put.

“Not a fucking favor.” Something heavier thumps against the door and Draco can almost see Harry banging his head against the polished wood. “You’re in heat and it’s driving me insane. I just…Please Draco.” The Alpha growls pitifully.

Draco listens fascinated. “Why is it bothering you?” He asks.

“Fuck Draco! I’m your mate by bond. I can feel your heat and it’s driving me, my wolf, my everything…” Driving…driving him insane. Like Draco. If he weren’t semi delirious from wanting, Draco would have laughed. The things he did not know because of the farce that was his first marriage and the reluctance of everyone to _talk_ about the workings of bonded couples! Since Lestrange never seemed terribly affected by his heats, Draco had assumed that heats only affected Omegas. He did not realize that the bond would immediately wake the instincts of his Alpha to mate. But there is it, or rather there is Harry begging him for relief.

“Draco.” Harry says, and it’s as much of a plea as the man has ever expressed to Draco.

“Go away.” He says, but not loudly enough for the other to hear. The blond drops his head against the side of the tub. He really, really wants to tell Harry to leave. He wants him to suffer… to grit his teeth as each wave of need hits him, and have no recourse but to bare it just like Draco has, but…what if Harry goes somewhere to find some relief? His mind whispers and Draco stiffens. Omegas are not allowed to find lovers to relieve their symptoms, but it’s common place for Alphas to visit the brothels. Draco growls at his thoughts. He knows his mind is trying to trick him, to make him capitulate with the needs of his body. But, what if Harry _does_ visit some whore house? What if some trump gets to _entertain_ him? Draco can almost see it, see Harry and some whore, he can hear the pants, smell their arousal, he can almost feel Harry moving inside and fucking the trump, and he wants to scream at the vision that simultaneously makes his insides weep with need and infuriates him.

“Damn it!” He says loudly. “Damn it.” More quietly in defeat before jumping out of the tub and quickly running to the door. His wet feet slip on the floor and his eyes are blinded as in his mind he sees Harry’s beautiful cock sinking into some willing whore. The vision makes him furious and he wants to see Harry and confront him about it. He wants to let the Alpha know he is _forbidden_ from ever visiting any such place. He grabs the handle and twists viciously slamming the door open. Draco has no chance to pull the Alpha inside before he is attacked by the other man. Harry mumbles something about convenient before his mouth fastens against Draco’s and his hands ran over the Omega’s naked body. The Alpha’s tongue thrusts into his mouth and Draco moans, forgetting his indignation and wishing Harry were thrusting other parts into him.

Draco hears clothes ripping, barely realizing that it’s his hands that are attacking Harry’s shirt until it’s no more. They drop to the floor where they meet never even trying to move toward the bed. Draco lands painfully on his back despite Harry’s effort to hold his weight when they go down. The blond doesn’t care, the pain is nothing compared to his need. Harry lifts to his knees and Draco pushes himself up to his knees as well. The Omega’s fingers attack Harry’s pants next and the Alpha helps until the fastenings are undone and Harry’s pants and underpants are pushed down by four hands until they are mid-thigh and Harry’s thick cock is free. That’s all they need.

Draco grabs Harry by the nape of the neck and pulls him on top of him as he lays on the floor again. The Omega spreads his thighs, his other hand grabs Harry’s ass and pulls him closer, positioning him between the v created by his long legs. Harry doesn’t resist, and without a warning sheaths himself within the wet and hot passage the Omega offers him. Draco moans as he is filled, every cell in his body screaming _finally_ as Harry begins to rut into him. One of Harry’s calloused hands grabs at his knee pulling Draco’s leg further away, stretching him painfully and holding him there which gives the Alpha more leverage as he thrusts into the Omega.

Draco screams when Harry hits his prostate brutally. The Omega’s hands skid about the floor trying to find something to help him steady himself as Harry’s thrusts push him across the floor further into the room. His teeth grind together to hold back the pained growls as his body takes the abuse. It’s not a comfortable way to fuck. His hips keep smacking against the floor with Harry’s every push into him, he can practically feel the bruises forming. His lower back is cramping and his shoulder blades feel raw from being rubbed against the floor as Harry pushes forward. Despite his slick wetness, his entrance stings painfully from being stretched to capacity so suddenly, but it doesn’t matter. Draco throws his head back smashing it into the floor, but it doesn’t matter. He feels Harry’s short but sharp nails dig into the thin skin of his knee cap, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but Harry above him, all over him, and inside him. Draco shuts his eyes tightly as the sensation of Harry pushing inside him makes him feel compressed and stretched and painfully aroused at the same time.

Realizing how uncomfortable their position is for Draco, the brunet suddenly flips their positions until he is lying on the floor with Draco straddling his lap. Draco doesn’t waste a single second before he begins to grind into Harry, squeezing his passage and the Alpha’s shaft that’s still buried inside him from tip to base. He moves frantically over the Alpha without a rhythm to speak of.

“I—I can’t!” He yells looking down at Harry desperately, tears running down his flushed cheeks.

Draco can’t explain or say more as he struggles to breathe. He’s lost all control over his body. He’s not so much ridding Harry as he is spasming over him, too much stimulation at once giving him a sense that he is having multiple mini-orgasms while building toward a colossal one at the same time. He looks desperately at the Alpha beneath him, his vision tunneling for a moment. Thankfully, Harry doesn’t need more to understand. The Alpha buckles up harshly and dislocates Draco, the action uncoupling them. Draco almost screams in anguish at feeling the emptiness again, but he has no time to do so. Harry quickly pulls his mate onto his hands and knees before finally ridding himself of his obtrusive clothing while moving behind the blond and entering him again.

The pace is as brutal as before and Draco’s knees aren’t fairing too well, but he can’t even feel it. All that matters is that he get _it_. He pushes into Harry, tensing his muscles and gripping Harry’s erection in a vice like hold inside him.

“Come! Fucking come!” Draco yells at the man. He needs Harry to fill him, he needs to feel the knot inside him, and he needs to it NOW.

“Draco!” Harry shouts as the Omega’s muscles grip him tightly making him see white flashes. One of his hands fists into Draco’s shoulder length hair and pulls brutally making the blonde’s back arch, while the other grabs him at the hip to pull him back into Harry’s thrusts.

“Please Harry, please, please come, please come, Harry…” Draco says brokenly, his neck stretched backwards, as he’s pulled into the Alpha’s cock, not registering the stinging of his scalp or the bruising of his knees.

Harry tries to let go of Draco’s hair but can’t, his fingers have locked and he can’t do more than thrust again and again. He knows he’s hurting Draco but can’t stop. They’ve never coupled like this before, not even during Draco’s other heats, although the fact that Draco had refused to approach Harry and the heat had progressed to this point was the most probable reason why they have lost control. It’s irrelevant, all that matters is Draco. Draco who’s so hot inside and out that Harry’s blood is sizzling from the contact. Draco who’s crying and begging Harry. Harry snaps his hips faster as he hears Draco’s pleas. So close, so close, so close, and then Draco orgasms and the pressure is too much for Harry. He pulls Draco’s hair so harshly the blond lifts from his hands and arches back, sitting on Harry as they both fall backwards. Harry shouts as he lands on his back with a shaking Draco on top, but the abrupt movement doesn’t stop his orgasm from taking him.

Draco opens his eyes to look at the fucking paneling on the ceiling again. He can feel Harry’s raged breaths caressing his nape. He can feel his own heart thumping maniacally and above all, he feels _it_ , Harry’s knot inside him, tying him to the other man and keeping Harry’s seed inside him. His instincts are completely silent now, like misbehaving children they’ve hidden themselves after causing all the mischief, leaving Draco to deal with the aftermath.

There’s really little for him _to do_ , it’s not like he can get up and demand that Harry leave his room, they’re still attached by the knot. Even if it were an option, he will only end up going to Harry in an hour or two for another round. His heat isn’t over and, like it or not, Harry is the only solution to his problem.

“Are you hurt?” The Alpha gasps in his ear, probably having trouble regaining his breath with Draco’s body weight pushing down on him.

“Of course I’m hurt, you brute.” Draco responds annoyed. He isn’t lying either. His knees and lower back are killing him, and he is sure Harry ripped a good amount of hair by the root because his scalp stings like hell.

“Yea, well…if you hadn’t waited—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Draco warns him, and Harry falls silent.

Harry sighs but makes no move to get Draco off him. One of his hands comes up to caress the Omega’s side before it moves to rest on Draco’s lower belly. The action makes Draco flinch slightly, feeling more intimate than their sexual encounter. Draco remains as he is, feeling Harry’s hand caress his stomach where, if Draco were _normal_ , a child would grow. The idea hurts. He knows Harry isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s his instinct as Alpha that compels him, even if in his post coital mood the brunet has not realized what he is doing. Draco feels a heaviness settle in his heart because he _knows_ what those touches mean. It is Harry’s secret hope; a hope Draco cannot fulfill.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry looks at the multitude that has gathered to watch his fight with Lestrange. The arena is completely packed. The upper levels occupied by the upper class are filled, which is rare enough. Even Draco’s _Tribuens Virum_ hadn’t attracted so many. Of course, on that occasion the Alphas would not have brought their Omegas along as it would have been _improper_ to bring them to preside over the sale of another Omega, but now they could and did. The Lower stands and grounds are so full that people can barely move. It isn’t every day that the common people have the opportunity to see a Noble fight in the arena. In fact, the only time that Harry knows of a Noble fighting so publicly happened when his family was still alive. Nobles fought of course, but usually it was a more private matter. Most Nobles did not believe in making a show for those beneath them. Harry understands their strategy. It is not good ruling to show the lower masses that Nobles can also be defeated and humiliated, even if such an event occurs at the teeth and claws of another Noble. The trick to ruling and maintaining power is to convince those you rule that you are beyond their touch. What’s important is not how truly big you are but how large a shadow you cast. Maintaining a distance is necessary in order to maintain the awe the merchants and mercenaries feel when in the presence of a Noble.

The Nobles are more powerful than the other classes in magical potential, but what they have in magic they lack in numbers, and since Riddle took over, those number have decreased even more rapidly, along with the decrease of their magic. Harry wonders how much longer it will take the larger public to begin suspecting that the Nobles are not what they once were, that they are no longer untouchable.

Of course, if that occurs, it will only lead to another Clash and their country had barely survived the first one intact. No, changing the system of governance is not what Harry wants. Even if he wanted to, he has no idea what it should change into. What he wants is to make the system as fair as it possibly can be, and for that to happen, the fear that hangs over the Council has to be lifted. Each member of the Council represents a region and competes with one another for beneficial rules and legislation for their region. However, since Riddle took over, Council members are, for the most part, too afraid to pursue their interests, following blindly where Riddle tells them instead. This strategy has resulted in a very rich capital and Northeastern regions, which belong to the Riddle family, but has impoverished almost all the other regions.

Some places have lost little and still manage to do well, either because they have natural resources within their region, like the iron mines in the far south, or because they do business independently with other countries like the Notts do in the Eastern ports Astrodorst and Emmott. But most other regions have lost most of the legislation that protected them over the years and their wealth with it.

It didn’t happen immediately after Riddle took over. The exploitation begun with the North and northwest regions that belonged to the Potters and their allies under the pretense of reparations, but slowly spread. Higher tariffs on goods imported from other regions, higher taxes on their exports, the siphoning of funds from their budgets for _emergency_ situations in the Capital or in the North eastern regions. And so, slowly but surely, the past twenty years have made Riddle a very rich man, immensely so, have seen corruption skyrocket, and have seen Harry’s home turned into the antithesis of what it once was, full of malnourished children, thugs, and prostitutes for hire. His father’s legacy nothing more than a pit of poverty and despair.

Harry wants to end the circle of destruction but more than this he wants _revenge_. He cares about those that are suffering under the arbitrary and uncaring ruling of Riddle, but he would be lying if he said that their situation was his primary motivation. His motivation is the death of his family. Riddle and he have a score to settle, and Harry cannot rests until he sees that the man pay for his crimes. It is all Harry wants and has wanted from the moment he learned how to hate all those years ago; he needs justice and closure. _Closure_.

Harry turns to look at Draco who, like Harry, watches the masses from their private box. The blond Omega appears so calm and composed that no one would imagine the tornado of emotions that rages beneath his calm mask. _Closure._

Harry and Draco had not fought the blonde’s heat after they succumbed to it. There is no point in fighting something as instinctual as the need to breathe, so they indulged. But as soon as Draco’s heat subsided they found themselves in opposite sides of the same argument, Lestrange and the challenge. As preparations for the meeting of the challenge begun, Draco became more and more distant. Harry told himself that the blond was being petulant because he refused to comply with him, but he could never quite convince himself that this was really the case. Finally, two days before the challenge they had been dinning in silence again and Harry broke, not able to stand the echo of the old house any longer.

“Why can’t you understand?” He told the man sitting next to him. Slowly the blond put his silverware down and turned to look at the Alpha.

“Why do you want to go after Riddle?” Draco asked him, looking straight into his eyes and patiently waiting for a response.

“It’s not the same Draco.” Harry told him, guessing where the Omega was taking the discussion.

“Why?” The blond man insisted.

“Why do I want the man that murdered my family dead?” Harry asked him.

“No. Why do you feel like _you_ have to do it? Why do _you_ have to kill him?” The blond asked.

“Because no one else will.” Harry answered turning to his plate but finding that he had no interest in the food any longer.

“You’re lying.” Draco told him simply still staring at the Alpha despite the other’s lack of response.

“You _want_ to do it yourself. You want to shred him to pieces with your own claws, you want to hear him scream, you want to taste his blood, and above all you want to _watch_ him die and you want him to know he is dying because of _you_ , because you are killing him. When the time comes, you _want_ him to know that. To know for what crime he is dying.” Draco told him, and Harry had no response.

No response was necessary. What more to add? It was true. Harry knew it, and now Draco knew it. Nothing had changed. Harry never tried to hide his hate from the blond. He wants Riddle dead more that he wants anything and will not pretend otherwise. Those were his thoughts as he stared at his mate.

“Yes. That’s what I want. Though considering your misgivings, I didn’t think you understood.”

“I don’t just understand. I know. You want closure and so do I. What I’m telling you…” Draco said, looking him in the eyes. “What I describe is what I feel, what I want, what I need. Harry, I need closure, and I want…when he dies, I want him to know that it’s because of _me…_ as punishment for what he did to _me_.”

Without saying another word, the blond Omega had quietly left the table and the room. Harry sat for a long time in the same place staring at the door Draco had walked out of.

Now here they are at the event that has created a chasm between them like no other of Harry’s actions or lies had managed to create. The only thing that Draco seems unable to forgive him for is his refusal to let him fight Lestrange. After all that Harry had done, after all that knowing Harry had cost Draco, the Omega had forgiven it all, but not this. This Draco could not abide or disregard, this was his demon to vanquish, and Harry is not letting him have his fight, have his closure. As Harry looks at the blond he hears the Omega’s words over and over in his mind as he has been for the past two days, for longer if he is honest. _“If you want me to trust you…You can start by trusting me and my choices.”_ He had said. _“I want him to know that it’s because of me…as punishment for what he did to me._ ” Closure. Draco wants _closure_.

Harry’s eyes close for a moment to shut out the image of the blond standing next to him calmly when he knows inside the Omega is falling apart. _We_ are falling apart together, his mind whispers. Harry’s hand moves to his pocket where the vial sits innocuously. Why is it that the most detestable things he has done lately came to him in little crystal bottles, he wonders, thinking back to the time he forced Draco into his wolf form. His fingers clench around the little container. He promised himself he would not use it as he thought of Sirius and the others. Even when he asked Remus to procure a strong dose, he had not planned to use it. Even as he slipped it into his pocket before leaving the Black Manor, he had promised himself that he would not betray his goals. But… _Closure_.

 _Closure_ , that one word that never left him and that hunted his mate as well. Harry had accepted a long time ago that he would always be a slave to that word and the desire it represented. It was only right then that he ended mated to a man who was as much a slave to _Closure_ as he himself is.

Fucking cosmic ironies, he thinks as he opens his eyes again and stares at the blond. He had already spoken to the announcer about the slight change. Now, it is time to tell the blond. Harry hears the announcer call the entrance into the arena of “Rodolphus Lestrange, Alpha Noble Class, Honorable Member of the High Council…” There are cheers, the excitement of seeing a Noble in the arena electrifying the crowd. Harry turns to look at the Omega.

“I won’t be able to help you.” He tells his mate.

“What?” Draco asks confused as if woken from a meditative state.

“Physically, magically I’ll do all I can.” Harry says and sees Draco’s eyes narrow in confusion. Then, the announcer calls the second fighter into the arena.

“Draco Abraxas Malfoy-Black, Omega, Noble Class.” Absolute silence follows the announcement as the entire arena pauses first in confusion and then in shock.

Draco’s eyes widen as he hears his name called, but continue to stare at Harry, unmoving.

“If you don’t fight well today, you will die.” Harry tells him showing him the vial he holds and telling Draco what it does.

Draco gives a short nod accepting the terms, victory or death, and quickly removes his clothes and walks forward out of the private box and toward the arena. The blond does not turn around to look at him, he doesn’t thank him for this, he says nothing and Harry is glad. Harry also leaves the private box where fighters are hosted until they enter the arena to move to the upper level to sit. He watches as Draco makes his entrance to the arena naked and can’t help a smirk of appreciation as his eyes enjoy the sight of the Omega’s body.

Draco’s entrance seems to wake the crowds and the whispering begins. Never have they seen a challenge between an Omega and an Alpha, there has never been one. They don’t clap anymore, some look up and point at Harry who sits calmly watching his mate. Others look at the Omega pitifully, feeling sorrow for the poor thing that will be massacred. Many look lustfully at the Omega’s slim body.

In the arena, Lestrange looks onto the body that he still dreams of possessing until his eyes meet a pair of eyes the color of sharpened steel.

“It pains me to think that I will have to mar your beauty Draco.” He tells the Omega as they move towards the center of the arena and the other is close enough to hear him.

“That never stopped you before.” The blond answers calmly.

The smile on Lestrange’s face is all teeth as he remembers how he indulged when the blond belonged to him.

“You have offended me and intentionally caused harm to me and mine, for that I challenge you and you will die.” Draco says, using the mode of address for an official challenge.

“After I deal with you, I’ll take care of that mongrel you’ve been fucking.” Lestrange tells him and begins to transform.

 _You’ll never fight Harry_ , Draco thinks as he begins to transform as well. _You die today_.

Harry watches as the two men transform into their wolves. As expected, Lestrange’s chestnut wolf is much larger than Draco’s white. Once the transformation is complete, the two animals begin to circle one another, growling as they examine their enemy, waiting for an opening to attack. Harry watches, he slowly pulls the stopper off the vial and brings it to his lips discreetly. He watches the wolves complete one final circle. He watches the white crunch low for a second as he tips the vial and the liquid runs into his mouth. The white launches into the air straight towards the much larger chestnut, and Harry swallows the bitter brew.


	10. Dancing Wolves

Almost as soon as the brew glides down his throat, Harry feels the tips of his fingers and toes go numb. The feeling quickly spreads to his arms and legs as he watches Lestrange shake Draco off as if he were no more than a rag doll. Harry wants to growl as the white is thrown to the side, landing haphazardly in the sand, skidding a few feet before coming to a stop. The chestnut wolf moves quickly for the white’s exposed belly, but the white is fast and quickly rolls away from Lestrange. The white wolf avoids several attacks by the other by quickly moving behind the much larger wolf. The chestnut might be more powerful, but the white is much faster, light on its feet, and without other fighters to crowd the arena or to watch out for, the white has space to maneuver to every time the chestnut attacks. The crowd watches the deadly dance, cheering at the brutal attacks of the chestnut and the agile moves of the white that keep it millimeters away from the sharp teeth.

Harry is glad to see that Draco’s wolf is fast and has managed to avoid Lestrange’s teeth as much as he has. He concentrates on watching the dancing of the two wolves and ignoring the yelling of the crowd that has regained its excitement. His eyes lose focus on occasion as the potion continues to act, but he forces them to focus, an irrational fear gripping him that if he loses sight of the white wolf even for a moment something terrible might happen. Suddenly, as the small wolf turns to avoid another attack, the chestnut manages to bite into its hind leg as it turns. The chestnut bites down viciously and pulls the smaller wolf down, trying to hold him there with a large paw as its teeth sink deeply into the muscle of the leg. The white yelps in pain and growls as the other sinks its teeth deeply, cutting sinew and damaging the muscle, crippling the smaller wolf.

The yell of the white when the teeth sink into his leg make Harry want to rise up and attack the aggressor, but the potion makes it impossible. His hands want to squeeze the handles of his chair but even this is beyond him as his entire body is now paralyzed. The most he can manage is blink helplessly, even that with tremendous effort. Instead, he feels his core being ripped open, the potion finally reaching its target. If he had use of his voice, Harry is sure he would have screamed in pain as the potion does its work. In that moment, as he tries to breathe through the pain and through the feeling of his lungs almost collapsing, he sees the large chestnut let go of the leg to try to grab the other by the neck, but the white manages to push up and turn its head and bite into the side of the chestnut’s neck for a moment before the other shakes him off once more, one of its massive front paws coming up and pushing at the white’s face until the other is dislodged. Blood runs down the snout of the white from the three deep slashes that the other’s claws leave on his face, one running perilously close to his left eye.

The white wolf skids across the ground a little but lifts quickly and tries to move away from the chestnut’s teeth. Its injured leg trails pathetically slightly behind him, limping and leaving a trail of crimson that is quickly absorbed by the sand. Harry finally feels his core stabilize under the pressure of the potion’s effects. The pain makes him almost see double for a moment, but he does not care. He has only seconds before the chestnut, who is only mildly injured by the white’s last attack, finishes of the much more gravely injured white wolf. Harry concentrates on reaching the bond he has with Draco; he feels Draco’s magic as it tries to heal the damage to the injured leg and face while creating a barrier between him and Lestarnge to slow the larger wolf down. Harry grabs onto the connection; it’s not difficult to find it. With the other injured, the Alpha’s instincts are on high alert and he feels the bond more strongly than usually. As soon as he concentrates on it, he pushes off the magic bleeding from his core into the connection flooding it with everything he has.

If it were his own leg that was injured, only a fraction of the magic he is giving Draco would have been needed to heal the wound. But, magic is a personal thing attuned completely to the body in which it resides and cannot be as effectively utilized by another. This is why even bonded couples cannot transfer large amounts of magic between them, not without the help of very dangerous potions like the one that burns through Harry’s veins at the moment.Their bond allows Harry to push magic through the connection, but the magic is not willing to leave his body. It resists and without the potion, it would have been impossible for him to compel so much of his magic to flow into Draco. Draco, in the best case scenario, will be able to utilize Harry’s magic with thirty to forty percent effectiveness compared with Harry’s one hundred percent effectiveness. Harry hopes that with Lestrange’s depleted magical reserves, the combination of Draco’s magic with whatever magic Harry adds to it will suffice.  

So, Harry pushes magic into the connection, and the audience screams, enraptured with what they see as the white’s leg touches the ground beneath it, completely healed. The white suddenly moves again, faster than before trying to move behind the other wolf that is looking at him surprised by the sudden healing. Lestrange quickly abandons his surprise and moves to follow Draco’s movements. When he sees his opportunity, he moves to attack the white wolf again. However, at the last moment, Draco changes directions and with all the momentum he has he slams into Lestrange’s torso. The white wolf would not normally be heavy enough to flip the other wolf. Lestrange uses his magic to ground himself and increase the speed of his movements, but the chestnut’s eyes widen as suddenly he feels his paws leave the ground.

Harry feels like he is going to be ill as he pushes his magic through Draco to neutralize Lestrange’s grounding spell and give the Omega enough strength to push the other wolf over despite its small body mass. Lestrange is on his back for only a moment, but in that time Draco ruthlessly sinks his teeth into the soft and unprotected skin of Lestrange’s belly and pulls back harshly as the other wolf rolls away from him. The result is a hair rising tearing sound as Lestrange’s flesh gives. The action leaves a significant wound on Lestrange’s belly that bleeds all over the sand when he lifts to his legs again, bleeds until the earth can drink no more and a small puddle of coagulating blood remains as the wolf moves away from the white. The white wolf does not gives him an opportunity to regroup. Draco moves to attack again and feels the easiness with which he can now approach the chestnut. Lestrange’s magic now is too busy trying to heal his wound to create a barrier or a grounding spell against Draco.

Draco goes for the other’s throat but the other wolf snaps at him grazing his snout with his sharp teeth and the white has to move away or risk another injury to his face. Harry concentrates more, cold sweat running all over his still figure. He pushes his magic again, this time giving it some intent and hoping Draco understands what he means for him to do with it. Draco said he had been trained in combat spells, so Harry hopes the blond will pick up on his strategy. As he sees the white wolf stop advancing and standing away from the chestnut for a few seconds, Harry knows the other understood. He pushes more magic and tries to sense Lestrange’s magic and…yes! Harry feels as the spell the Omega weaves contains Lestrange’s magic momentarily, not allowing the other to heal his wounds as fast as he would otherwise.

As soon as the spell is cast the white wolf attacks again and again. It moves quickly around the other, biting into one hind leg and shaking its head to rip the wound open as much as possible and then trying to do the same to the other leg. However, the enthusiasm of approaching victory makes the white careless. As he bites into the other leg, the chestnut pushes whatever magic he can into freezing the white in place for a few extra seconds. That is all the chestnut needs to attack the white by sinking his teeth into the nape of the neck of the other and with a pulse of whatever magic remains within him, he applies pressure to brake the other’s neck.

Harry hears a shrill noise in his head and his vision tunnels as he pushes everything that is in his tortured core to create a pressure equal to the one Lestrange is applying onto the white’s neck so that the column that sustains Draco’s life will not brake. He pushes and pushes hoping Draco can still breathe and is conscious enough to _do_ something with the extra magic he has at his disposal. Harry hears his own heartbeats, a frantic tempo against his temple and everything he sees goes a little gray and grainy as his overtaxed core begins to cannibalize its life sustaining magic. When he feels like he won’t be able to maintain the pressure to keep Lestrange from braking Draco’s neck any longer, the chestnut wolf jumps or is flung back with a cry of pain and falls to the ground twitching.

There is a fizz of electricity that sparks around the white wolf and the light smell of burnt fur reaches those on the lower grounds who are closest to the arena; the crowd goes wild with excitement. By the looks of it, Harry guesses Draco transmuted the magical energy into electricity and run it over his body. It was enough of a shock not only to dislodge Lestrange but to render him unconscious. Bleeding from the wound at his neck, the white wolf growls, its face a mask of ruthless triumph. He moves to wrap its powerful jaws around the exposed neck of the other wolf, ready to crush the other’s windpipe. Before the white wolf manages it, a shockwave goes through the arena, throwing the white more than a yard across the sand. Harry wants to move as he sees Draco’s wolf lying on the ground unmoving. He fights the effects of the potion that still keep his body paralyzed but cannot break free. He looks back at the chestnut, but that wolf is also unconscious on the ground. For a moment Harry doesn’t understand what’s happening, but then he sees _him._

On the other side, almost directly across from where Harry sits, stands a tall, slim figure dressed in black silks. The tall man looks down almost with boredom at the arena as he stands at the balcony, one hand and long fingers wrapped loosely around the rail, while the other hand is still raised. The hand that conducted the separation spell with such force that it sent visible blueish shockwaves across the arena, making the sand rise and the crowd fall silent.

The man turns his head slightly to the side to speak to another, much shorter and stockier man standing next to him. The short man nods in understanding. Without further ado, the short man grabs the rails and without thought jumps from the second floor balcony and lands in the sand of the arena. He moves toward the center of the arena leisurely. When he is standing between the two unconscious opponents, he gestures at the announcer to come forth. As the other man quickly walks toward him, the short man turns to the crown.

“Noble Ladies and Gentleman, Merchants, and Mercenaries, this contest is now concluded, we ask that you remove yourselves from the premises in an orderly manner.” He says, his voice amplified by a spell and then turns to the announcer who has reached him indicating towards the two wolves. The announcer quickly nods, and has some men carry the two back into the private boxes as the short man orders him to do.

The crowd quickly begins to disperse. No one asks who _we_ refers to. They all know, and no one dares disobey. If Lord _Riddle_ says it’s over, then it’s over.

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Harry’s body twitches, not even the effects of the paralyzing potion are enough to contain the rage that floods him. He has not seen the face of Thomas Marvolo Riddle in nineteen years. Even then, he had only seen it a few moments, aglow with the orange tint of firelight as the man stood outside the Potter Manor and calmly watched it burn, but Harry would know him anywhere. The man is almost unchanged. From the distance no wrinkles are visible on the chiseled face, only a light dusting of grey close to his temples mark the two decades that have passed. His figure remains lean, his aura still imposing even when he appears relaxed in his environment. Harry watches as Riddle looks onto the arena serenely, observing as the two wolves are carried away. 

The man then looks up for a single moment, his eyes indifferently scanning the quickly emptying upper levels, moving over Harry’s unmoving figure without pause. The lack of acknowledgment, of recognition, of _something_ is almost too much for the young Alpha. Harry wants Riddle to see him and to know him. It’s an irrational thought and should it come true his plans would all end along with his life this very moment. But, the lack of recognition is unacceptable to him. How can someone impact your life, shape your destiny, shape your mind and who you are, your goals, and your fears and _not_ know you? How can Riddle’s eyes pass him by so simply when all that Harry _is_ is because of him. His terror and pain, his drive, his hate that fuels him, how can Riddle not feel it oozing into the air between them? How can the man not smell and taste the hate that boils Harry’s entrails, that chocks him, that has been poisoning him since it stole his childhood? How can Riddle _be_ when Harry cannot. How can Riddle exist in a world without Harry when Harry’s word is Riddle. How can Riddle be his constant nightmare when for him Harry is not even a passing thought?

 

Maybe, Harry thinks, Riddle is too used to hatred, to resentment infusing the air in every room he enters. Maybe he has developed a tolerance for the hatred, or maybe he just does not care. Not care that everything he touches dies, that he causes so much pain that any other sensation becomes foreign to those he affects. Maybe Harry’s pained internal cries are just one among many and do not signify more than any of others. 

 

Before him, Harry sees Riddle turn and walk into the shadows away from the balcony and towards the stairs. As if woken from a trance, Harry finally remembers Draco, who is unconscious somewhere, and the thought jolts him into action. The stands are almost empty and Harry begins to struggle, trying to put his injured core back together, trying to push magic through his veins and arteries to burn the potion that still grips his body. The sensation of the magic flowing slowly through him is like having the top layer of his skin peeled of slowly with a sharp razor. He breathes through it until he begins to regain feeling in the soft pads of his fingers. He pushes his magic more, knowing that it must be at least fifteen minutes since Draco was taken away. A few more minutes and he is mobile enough to lift of the chair though the pain almost brings him back down. He makes his way slowly to the stairs and gritshis teeth as the arduous task of descending without falling takes all his concentration. His legs shake and his knees buckle every time he tries to bend them to take a step, but he persists.

 

After what feels like an eternity, Harry finally makes it to the private box where he can sense Draco is. He enters to find that Draco is not alone, Lucius and Narcissa have accompanied their son. Harry had not expected them to be present for the challenge since they considered the arena a place too vulgar for their presence. But, since this was the moment when they hoped to see Lestrange properly punished for the humiliations he imposed on them and their son, it makes sense that they would deign to come. Harry would have hope they had not come. He does not think either of them will be happy with him for giving his place in the arena to their _Omega_ son. Harry knows he is correct when Lucius looks at him with unadulterated hatred, while Narcissa watches the human form of her son breathe shallowly as it lies still unconscious on a small cot, covered by a slight sheet.

 

“What did you mean by this? Do you intent to kill him?!” Lucius says as soon as he sees Harry.

“I—he wanted to fight him.” Harry whizzes out, his vocal chords strained with the effort. His hands shake and he tries to keep them out of sight of the two Malfoys.

 

“He’s an Omega!” Lucius hisses at the younger man. “He is not meant to fight, that’s what he has you for! Or he would have you if you were any sort of Alpha. To think that James Potter bred a coward _that_ I could not have foreseen! But you are—”

“He needed to fight and he almost won.” Harry replies, his eyes going to the figure on the cot.

“You are an idiot and I will not allow you to drag _my son_ and _us_ down with you. You have alerted Riddle, you have placed Draco’s life on the line because of a whim of his—”

“You were the one that put him in danger when you married him to Lestrange!” Harry yells at the man in front of him losing the little patience he had. He immediately regrets it as the effort makes his legs weaker and his head spin.

 

Silence follows Harry’s words. It is not fair. Harry knows Lucius had little choice as to allowing Lestrange to enter the competition for Draco’s hand, yet the man blames himself for the suffering of his son. Where Harry in a better place mentally, he would not have been cruel by pointing out his failure as father and Alpha to the young Omega, but as is, he only restrains himself from making any more accusations. A fight with Lucius Malfoy is something he does not need or want.

 

“Lucius, please it’s not the time.” Narcissa pleads with her husband who continues to look at Harry. As the figure on the cot begins to move, the older Alpha’s attention is drawn to his son again.

 

Lucius turns from Harry to move next to his wife in the line of sight of their son. Harry is glad the confrontation did not escalate because he is in no condition to fight Lucius nor is he in a position where he can afford to make an enemy of the man. Harry leans against the door frame, dizziness making everything spin around him and his knees lock to hold him up. He listens and looks on as Narcissa gently asks Draco how he feels and if he hurts anywhere. It takes the blond a moment to speak. He stares fixedly at his mother a moment before turning his head until he locates Harry by the door.

 

“Did I kill him?” He asks. Harry shakes his head and watches the devastation that fleets through the other’s eyes. Even Lucius understands, Harry thinks, because he says nothing.

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Harry’s eyes open slowly as daylight filters through his bedroom window and onto his bed. His room in eerily quiet and he enjoys the peace it affords him for a while. It had been two days of madness and uproar before the challenge and two days he has little memory of after it. When he and Draco returned to the Black Manor after leaving the arena, Sirius and Remus had been waiting for them. Harry’s lips tense as he remembers the encounter. He had never seen Sirius that furious, at least not towards him. But, what really made Harry feel like scum was the fight Sirius had with Remus because Remus provided Harry with the potion that forced his magical core to open. There are too many land mines buried in Sirius’s and Remus’s relationship and Harry might have detonated several.

“You could’ve killed him!” Sirius yelled at his mate.

“I made sure he didn’t overdose! If I didn’t give it to him, he would have gotten it somewhere else and who knows what it would have done to him. Sirius—”

“You fucking lie to me and go behind my back to facilitate his stupidity.” Sirius yelled back, pointing in Harry’s direction, who was being held upright by Draco since his legs were failing him again.

“Please! You need to examine Harry, there’s something wrong with him.” Draco yelled to Remus trying to balance himself under Harry’s dead weight and be heard over Sirius’s curses.

“We don’t have time for this Sirius!” Remus said as he moved close to Harry.

“It’s your fault he is as he is! What if that shit did permanent damage, then what!” Sirius yelled again, but moved to grab Harry moving him away from Remus and Draco as if he feared they might harm his adoptive son. The older Alpha picked the younger one up and walked to the upper floor until he reached the young Alpha’s bedroom. He placed him on the bed gently despite his anger.

Harry doesn’t remember anything more than that. The fever begun and he became delirious, or so Remus told him last night when he awoke drenched in sweat for the first time since he passed out. He wonders if Sirius and Remus were reconciled; he hopes, but doubts it. Their relationship had always been problematic. Sirius is a very dominant Alpha, but he fell in love with a Beta not an Omega. As a Beta, Remus does not always feel like being submissive and there is nothing Sirius can do about it. The issues they had with Sirius’s family rejecting the match and the fact that they spent years separated even before Harry and Sirius went into hiding only makes things more difficult for them since this made both men live their own lives independently. Harry knows both had other lovers during the years they spent apart. But even so, he knows they also feel very deeply for each other. If they are fighting, they will both be miserable, and Harry feels terrible for being the cause.

As soon as he manages to walk again, he will go to Eliria and speak with Sirius. Remus was right, Harry would have turned to some other source to get the potion since it was the only way to ensure that Draco had enough magical power to balance out against Lestarnge’s physical advantages. Harry would have approached one of their contacts from the black market to get the potion if he were not afraid that a subpar potion would damage him permanently or even kill him. He knew Sirius would be furious with both him and Remus, but he decided to ask Remus anyway, it was the safest way, and Harry is reckless not stupid. He knew how Sirius would react and that Remus would be caught in the cross fire but he still asked. Now, he needs to fix the damage and he will, as soon as he gains his motor functions back.

As Harry begins to move trying to judge how his body responds to him, the door of his bedroom opens and Draco walks in wrapped in a robe, obviously having just gotten up. His eyes immediately land on Harry, critically assessing the brunet.

“Hey, Remus said you should wake up normally by today.” The blond offers him for greeting as he moves further into the room.

“I…yes. I feel much better. Why are you up?” Harry asks, knowing the blond likes to sleep in when he can.

“You’re sick. I—I been helping Remus…to take care of you.” He says as if admitting to this is embarrassing.

“Oh. Remus is here then?” Harry had thought Remus would return to Astrodorst. If he remained for this long, Harry’s situation must have been critical.

“Yea. Sirius and he aren’t talking.” Draco says as he moves around the room aimlessly. Before reaching for a pitcher of water on the night table. He fills a glass and offers it to Harry who is surprised to realize that he is thirsty, and accepts it.

“I imagined as much. Sirius must still be angry.”

“He said—He said I’m a poison to you.” Draco says in a small voice.

Irritation spikes in Harry as he hears that. Sirius has no business interfering in his mating with Draco. “He shouldn’t have said that. It’s not true.” Harry tells the blond that now stands closer to the bed.

“In a way it is. You are…you were really ill and Remus said that you’ll recover physically quickly but it will take some time before your core heals completely.”

“I knew that when I took the potion.” Harry tells him.

“I’m interfering with your plans.” Draco tells him back.

“Why does that matter now? You never wanted me to do this anyway.”

“But—”

“Draco, what’s this about? Do you regret fighting Lestrange?” Harry asks him.

Draco looks at him, standing by Harry’s bedside. “No. I don’t regret it.” He finally admits.

“Then stop trying to apologize. Isn’t that what you told me? Don’t apologize if you don’t regret it?” He says a little exasperated with the Omega’s sudden timid attitude.

“I regret your state.” Draco says before finally sitting next to Harry. “When you told me what the potion did, I didn’t realize how bad it could be. A bad batch or an overdose by even by a few drops could have done permanent damage or worse.”

“It was my choice and I asked Remus because I knew he would make sure that didn’t happen.” Harry wants to touch Draco’s downturned face but resists. The last time they’d had any physical contact had been during Draco’s heat and he isn’t sure Draco would be comfortable with his touch.

The issue is quickly solved as Draco moves to sit close to Harry leaning back to rest his head against the headboard next to Harry’s. The Alpha moves his hand to take the Omega’s, and Draco entwines their fingers together.

“Thank you.” Draco says quietly looking out the window through which the morning light filtered. He doesn’t explain what he is grateful for; he doesn’t need to. Harry knows what he means perfectly. Before he knew exactly what Draco’s experience with Lestrange had been, Harry believed that he and Draco would never be able to understand one another completely. Not in the level that people that have suffered similar experiences can implicitly understand each other. Now, he understood Draco, understood that the Omega is more than anyone had hoped or feared he would be. His mate is strong because he had been weak, like Harry had been when everything was taken from him. Draco had been at the mercy of a person that tried to break him and instead it made him strong. Harry can understand strength born of fear and pain better than any of the other mysteries of life. He understands the will to survive and to fight back, that’s why he did what he did to help the Omega fight, because he _understands_.

“Do you feel cheated because he is still alive?” Harry asks him as he also lets his head rests against the wooden surface.

“I feel…empty. I was afraid of him and I fought him and beat him. If _he_ hadn’t stopped it, I would have killed him, and I wouldn’t have any regrets about it.” Draco says, in a contemplative mood.

“Do you have regrets now?” Harry asks looking at the turned head that refuses to turn toward him. Then, Draco finally turns to look the Alpha in the eyes.

“No, I have no regrets. I wanted to stop fearing him, I think I managed it. Whether he is dead or not, I’m no longer afraid.” Draco turns even more toward Harry, his back to the window as he contemplates the face before his.

“If you manage to kill Riddle, do you think it’ll make you happy?” The blond asks his mate.

“No.” Harry says without a moment’s pause. “Killing doesn’t bring about happiness.”

“Then it’s just vengeance?” Draco asks.

“I…I don’t know what to tell you. It’s beyond me and it’s all about me at the same time.”

“About us.” Draco whispers.

“What?” Harry asks.

“I said, it’s about _us_.” The Omega repeats before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on the Alpha’s lips.


	11. The Natures of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so sorry that I have not been updating lately. However, a combination of moving, college classes, and writer's block have made it very difficult. I am working on this story and decided to update a small chapter (much shorter than my regular chapters I'm afraid) to tie you over while I work on a more substantial section. I hope you enjoy it even if it's short. :)

Draco flips another page in his book and crosses his legs at the ankles over the rumpled sheets of his and Harry’s bed. His eyes focus on the page for a moment before slowly straying away until they land on the constantly moving creature in the room. Draco examines his husband as the brunet dresses, walking around as he does so, trying to release some of the pent up energy that three weeks of forced repose have accumulated. Harry is preparing to visit the Weasleys, again.

Last week, after two excruciating weeks of mandatory bed rest, Remus had declared that Harry was healthy enough to leave his bed but his core was not ready for the stress of a continues glamour that is necessary when he goes out in public. So, Harry could only apparate to the Weasley’s whenever his confinement became too much and until he is able to cast the glamour again. They had not visited Eliria since Sirius was still angry. Although, Draco could clearly see that not speaking to the man was making Harry miserable. The brunet might wait a couple more days, but Draco will not be surprised if he goes to Eliria sooner than that. While avoiding Sirius, Harry visited other friends, and Draco had accompanied him to his visits, meeting the rest of Ron’s family. The memory makes the blond frown a little as his fingers drum against the hard cover of the book, his nails playing a staccato over and over again. The Weasleys are…good sort of people, Draco supposes. They are friendly and respectful, very welcoming, and all the other good things. They are also very loud, and disorganized, and…

Draco tries to focus on the page before him again, frowning with the exertion of keeping his eyes on the little black letters “ _the identity of the perpetrator of the Instine massacre is disputed among historians, but most attribute it to…_ ” but he quickly loses the meaning of the words again. There is really _nothing_ wrong with the Weasleys, nothing wrong with _any_ of them, at all. Mrs. Weasley and her husband have raised a family that is everything that Draco’s is not. They are lively and loud and express their love for one another freely. In comparison, Draco’s family was little more than close aquentences that lived under the same roof. Draco did not doubt that his parents cared deeply for him, loved him, and his mother sometimes even showed it openly in the privacy of their home, but what the Weasleys shared…such openness…such demonstration of affection fascinated Draco at the same time that he found it uncomfortable and almost unnatural. Despite his admiration for such behavior, Draco could not feel comfortable in their mist. He was not raised to be so casual, to be so open, to be so _sincere_.

Truly, the Weasleys are an admirable family. There is no pretense, no stifling propriety that creates walls between them. The first time Harry and he visited the Weasleys Draco had been only slightly curious about the family of Harry’s best friend. However, he quickly understood that the Weasleys are not simply Ron’s family, they are Harry’s family too. They treat him as one of they own. They joke with him and annoy him. Mrs. Weasley forces food down his throat no matter what his protests are. She ruffles his hair as if he were not a Noble Alpha by birth but another of her brood. Everyone treats Harry as if he belongs with them, and…maybe that’s the problem. Draco thinks as he observes his husband. They are really lovely people, a lovely family, and Harry obviously loves them. Even with Sirius Harry had never appeared as relaxed and carefree as he is when surrounded by Weasleys.

But, but, but… Draco thinks… He is not comfortable among them. Not that they offend him in any way; they do not. He was a very proud person in the past, and should he have met them in previous years, they would have offended his sensibilities. However, his pride and disdain for those below his station had withered away over the time he spend in the Lestrange household where the only people that were kind to him and attempted to help were Severus Snape, the merchant class healer, and a little chamber maid that would clean him up sometimes when he could not do it himself. Through that experience he had learned to appreciate the quality of a person above the quality of their clothes. He does not fool himself thinking that he is an equalist, but he is no longer predisposed to despise people for not being like him.

So, no. The Weasleys are not offensive, or rude, or uneducated, or anything that could be dislikable. Like Ron, who he always liked well enough, they are straightforward and very loyal to Harry. They love Harry and it shows, and they treated Draco as an extension of Harry, not treating him as familiarly, which would have annoyed him, but enfolding him in that loyal affection. They are pleasant, sincere people, a handsome family all of them, including the youngest, Ginny. Draco forces himself to read a sentence from the book that lays forgotten in his hands as his mind wonders, but he can only manage five words “ _In the second wave of…_ ” before he gives it up. He snaps the book shut and throws it to the side table—history of nations was never his forte anyway. They are _good_ people. They are, but to his shame Draco could live without ever seeing them again.

“You should visit Sirius,” he says as Harry pulls his second boot on. Harry stops and turns his head to look at the blond who is relaxing naked as the day he was born on the bed.

“What?” He says.

“You should go to Eliria.” Draco repeats. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It’s been weeks and he and Remus are still not speaking to each other. You know you need to solve this.” He says when the brunet continues to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“It’s just that…you’ve never commented on what I do unless it is related to you or your family.” Harry explains to him.

“I…yea, well you _are_ family and so is Sirius I suppose; we _are_ cousins, so…” The blonde says frowning at his husband.

“I’m family now?” Harry asks with a smirk that irritates the blond to no end.

“I…well what are you if not family? You are _my_ husband, can’t get much _closer_ than that.” Draco says with a coy smile, reminding Harry just how close they were not an hour ago and getting more comfortable on the bed, pretending to ignore the other.

Harry smiles as he looks at the blond stretching his long limbs on the bed, almost like a cat, he thinks.

“Anyway, the Weasleys have seen you enough.” Draco says nonchalantly, turning to look at the brunet again. Harry’s smile drops a bit.

“I don’t know why you don’t like the Weasleys. They have been nothing but kind to you—”

“I know they have, and I _do_ like them. Especially Mrs. Weasley and her cooking. I’m very fond of them.” Draco says quickly before Harry’s rant takes off. Immediately the brunet calms again, although there is still suspicion in his eyes. Draco smiles winningly and bounces off the bed to approach the brunet. He wraps his arms around his husband’s neck caressing his nape before hugging him close.

“I just think you need to patch things up with Sirius. I know he is angry, but he is also hurt, and I _know_ you feel guilty about leaving things as they are and the problems this created between him and Remus. So, go fix it.” Draco tells him as his nails ghost over the brunet’s nape. He feels Harry wrap his arms around him and pull him closer still.

“You’re right. I’ve been avoiding the entire issue, but I do need to talk to him.” Harry replies before placing a kiss on his temple.

“So, stop avoiding it and do what you must.” Draco says pulling away enough to look into Harry’s eyes.

“Do you want me to come also?” Draco asks.

“No, I…It’s better if we talk alone.” Harry says giving Draco another kiss. He slowly pulls away from the Omega and dissaparates.

Draco looks at the empty space where his husband stood not two seconds ago. He turns to look at the empty room, feeling the absence of the other man almost resonate throughout the space. Draco frowns; he feels slightly guilty for manipulating Harry, even in such a light manner and on such an insignificant matter. It is true that Harry needs to speak with Sirius, so he consoles himself with the excuse that the end can justify the means, and they _have_ visited the Weasleys numerous times already. They _can_ wait. If it’s up to Draco, they’ll wait. If it’s up to him, the Weasleys, particularly _Ginny Weasley_ , with all her devotion and love for Harry oozing through her every pore, will wait for the rest of Draco’s natural life before seeing Harry again.

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Harry stops a moment when he appears in Eliria. He is a little annoyed with himself for letting Draco manipulate him in such an obvious manner. It annoys him even more that despite knowing what his little mate was doing he still did as Draco wants, coming to Eliria instead of visiting the Weasleys. Whatever the blond might say, it’s obvious he has something against the Weasleys. The man got all twitchy and stiff when they visited and practically vibrated with the desire to leave. Harry is not willing to slight or avoid the Weasleys for the sake of Draco’s classist sensibilities; they are like family to Harry and Draco needs to understand this. But, for today, and since he _does_ need to talk to Sirius...

“I’m an idiot. I’m a _willing_ idiot.” He mumbles disgusted with his obedient behavior as he walks toward the cottage.

It’s not that he does not want to solve the issues with Sirius, but, well, Sirius could either be over it by now or hold a grudge for the next decade; it’s a tossup. Harry reaches the cottage and knocks. He tries his magic a little by pushing his senses into the house and realizes that Sirius is not inside. Harry expends his magic more until it touches into a wisp of energy that is as familiar to him as his own. Without pause he moves around the house and finds Sirius in the back chopping wood manually. The man always preferred to do simple tasks by hand, it’s a habit he passed on to Harry as well.

Sirius shoots him a glance without missing a beat, his axe falling with precision and cutting the log in half. Before he can grab another log, Harry does and positions it on the block. Sirius brings the axe down again, and Harry repeats the action. After a few minutes of silence, of Sirius cutting and Harry replacing, the older Alpha finally speaks.

“You are in love with that blond of yours.” He tells the younger Alpha without pausing, bringing the axe around in a semi arch before landing the blow that splits the wood in half.

“I like him.” Harry says and Sirius huffs derisively.

“That’s what I said the first time I fucked Remus. Look where it got me. I should have run like my hair was on fire.” Sirius replies and another log is neatly split.

“You don’t mean that. Remus is a good mate and you are grateful you have him.” Harry says because this is an old story.

“Hmm, everyday I thank the gods I got him, and everyday I curse them for saddling me with him. It’s a schizophrenic thing. Can’t decide. His life goal is to turn me insane” Sirius says, bringing the axe down with unnecessary force and getting it stuck on the block before pulling it out.

“Well this time it was not his fault. I would have gone to Jojo if Remus did not help me.” Harry confesses.

“To _Jojo_?” Sirius asks incredulous. “The blond has made you stupid. A glass of apple juice from Jojo would poison you or give you diarrhea for a month.” Sirius says finally stopping his activity and staring at his godson.

“He’s not that bad.” Harry says trying not to smile. Jojo _is_ that bad. And Harry wouldn’t drink water if it passed through the man’s hands.

“You’re shitting me.” Sirius says realizing his godson doesn’t actually mean it.

“Of course I am. But, the truth is I would have gone to someone, and I only trust Remus.”

“He should have told me. I’m his Alpha, dammit.” Sirius says, throwing the axe away and sitting on the back steps of the cottage.

“He is a Beta not an Omega.” Harry reminds him gently. Considering the explosion of histrionics his family had when they discovered Sirius mated a _Beta,_ and the fact that he was disinherited for it for years, it is mind-boggling how often Sirius forgets that Remus _is_ a Beta.

“That doesn’t signify. Fine, not as Alpha, as his fucking mate, of almost _twenty-eight_ years, and when this concerned my, _our_ , cub! He should have told me.” Sirius insists, and Harry tries hard not to wince at the hurt he hears in the man’s words. Put that way…

“It’s my fault. I didn’t want you to know; I didn’t want you to try and stop me.”

“You’d still have done it even if I tried.”

“Yea, I would.”

“God, but he has you wrapped around one finger.” Sirius says looking at Harry like he pities him and shaking his head mournfully.

“I have to live with him. It’s easier to do so without the hate vibes suffocating me every time we are in a room together.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Oh, so he got stubborn about it. What? Wasn’t giving you any until you gave him what he wanted?” Sirius says with a smirk.

“This is not about Draco.” Harry says feeling put upon.

“Fine. How are you going to deal with the scandal?” Sirius says.

“Lucius?” Harry replies, and Sirius huffs a short laugh.

“If Malfoy still has that stick up his ass he had when he was young, he ain’t too pleased with you right now.”

“He’s not, but he’s in too deep to pull out and I’ve got his son.”

“His son got you is more like it.” Sirius mumbles.

“Cut it out!”

“Fine don’t get your panties twisted.”

“You and Remus?”

“Me and Remus…The bastard didn’t leave me when I broke it off ’cause of my fucking family. I doubt you being an idiot will manage it.” Sirius says.

“Glad to hear it.” Harry says.

“So… does he have you potty trained yet? What about tricks? Has he taught you sit, roll over, play dead?” Sirius says as they move toward the door.

“Fuck off.”

Laughter booms and Harry is _not_ pouting dammit.


	12. Shadows of the Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I'm sorry it's taking so long for updates. I have the usual excuses to offer, life kicking my ass and such. But! Here is...something... If there are a lot of typos and mistakes please let me know, but be nice about it :/ Hope you enjoy.

The building of Central Administration and Law, most commonly known as the Turent after Ishtel Turent, the Noble High Ruler who commissioned its construction, is the reason why Irised became the capital of their nation. The region of the capital is in fact what the Turent family ruled over with an Iron fist countless centuries ago. Once they conquered all other regions, their seat became the center of the newly formed country.

Ishtel Turent was a force of nature or so the historical records say. A man that brought together more than nine warring fiefdoms and created a nation. He ruled over that nation and his sons ruled after him. They created laws where there had been only fast and loose rules, and what’s more important, they enforced the Law. _Fear and blood_ , with those ties the Turents bound all, fear and blood, obedience or death. Turent was both a founder of a nation and a despotic ruler who did not shy away from committing massacres that would secure him a region even if only out of fear. No inch of this old world is clean, Harry knows this, it was filthy before the Turents, and so it is now. He has seen what the world is made of: the perpetrators and the victims. In truth, Ishtel Turent was no worse than others and quite better than most. Once he took control, he saw to create an equal code for all regions, even if the code favored the powerful exceedingly; it was after all written by the most powerful among them.  

Of course, like all other houses, one bad apple was all the Turents needed to disintegrate until there was nothing but historical records and majestic buildings to prove they even existed. And the legend of the _old kings_. The fall of the Turent family four centuries after the death of Ishtel Turent resulted in the thirty years war, and ultimately the formation of The Noble High Council with representatives from each region. The very Council that continues a mockery of ruling today. Harry wonders if Riddle fashions himself as a new Ishtel Turent, demanding his right to rule over one and all. It’s not a preposterous idea. Many had tried before to take control from the Council and declare themselves kings. Almost every noble family claims descent from the Turent household, the Potters included, and on more occasion than one the houses have claimed the connection and with it the right to a crown that has not existed in more than six centuries. Harry wonders if Riddle is such a simple creature, simply a greedy man. It could be so. It would cheapen the death of Harry’s family he feels if Riddle has such a simple weakness. But it would not be the first time that simple greed overtakes the world. It would be easier to expose him if that is all there is to expose.  

Harry looks at the building that is the center of the capital, the reason the city exists. It is a huge structure, built on a natural hill and reaching twenty levels up. Three dozen steps take one up to each of the five entrances of the first level, five in honor of the five gods, columns frame each entrance rising all the way to the third level windows. After all these centuries, the Turent is still the highest structure in the city that sprouted at its feet. It was built with black marble, a natural resource of the region that is also friendly to the type of magic the designers used to put the monstrosity together. Wolves’ statues, clearly Alphas by their size, decorate it’s entrances. If it can be called decoration, considering how vicious they look. It is an imposing structure, a dark giant that looms over the city casting a shadow over all, _reminding them._ It seems to whisper a warning: _I am watching_.

Harry had been properly intimidated by the structure the first time he visited with his father. A five year-old deathly silent because he and father where visiting the capital on important business, his mother had told him so. He held his father’s hand tighter when he saw the Turent, afraid of somehow being separated from his father and being forever lost in the belly of the dark monster. The memory does not make Harry smile. He had been right. The Turent is a sleeping giant in whose belly many have been lost, condemned, sentenced, judged. The Potters that did not die in the fire and the attack met their fates here when men dressed in black robes declared them, mates and children no more than ten years of age, enemies of the state and sentenced them to death by hanging. Yes, the Turent had eaten well during the Clash, and not only of the flesh of Potters.

Yet, despite that, here he stands admiring the emblem of power, the emblem of the law that was used to finish off what had been left of his family. Now, here he is ready to enter into the belly of the beast once more. This time there is no fear. Harry stopped fearing being lost since he lost everyone else, and he stopped fearing death the day he decided death is a price he is willing to pay to accomplish his goal. There is no need to fear, not when he understands the game. Today, he enters the Turent to become an Honorable member of the High Council as is the right of the Heir to the house of Black. Today he moves closer to power and to his goal. He had hoped to reach this point sooner, not now almost four months after the Lestrange challenge. However, the scandal had been too much for most of his supporters, especially considering that Riddle clearly did not approve of the challenge.

Harry had heeded each of Sirius and Lucius instructions, keeping a low profile, allowing Lucius to deal with the public affront and with any questions Riddle might have. In the meantime, Harry had concentrated on recovering, on having a few meetings with those that were wavering in their support of his claim. He hates to admit it, but he is lucky Riddle did not decide to pursue the subject. If he had, all of Harry’s potential supporters would have run away with their tails between their legs. As it were, many had been scared back into obedience after Riddle’s little display at the arena. But, Harry isn’t too worried about them. They are greedy men and greedy men are predictable; they might restrain themselves for a time but their greed will be an itch inside them. When Riddle denies them their claims, denies them their tax cuts, and monopolies, that greed will bring them back to Harry and his plans.

None of them _know_ what Harry’s plans are of course. They know that he wants to implement changes that would make the regions more equal again, which means they will regain control of the Council and can again fill their coffers. Harry is disgusted with most of them, only a select few wanting change for the sake of the people that live in the regions, while most simply resent not being as wealthy as they were before the Clash. However, he hates Riddle more than the slimy greedy men disgust him. So, he courts them; he promises changes in the most vague of terms he can and allows their imaginations to take over. It’s a dangerous game, anyone can be more loyal to Riddle than Harry knows and he can end up arrested. It’s risky and Lucius’s insight into each of the Nobles they approach is invaluable. Without him, Harry is sure they would have been discovered long ago. It’s thanks to those greedy and cowardly men that he finds himself here, walking into the Turent to become officially a Noble.

They did not help him because it’s his birthright, most resent helping a _bastard_ rise above his station, but they want someone to confront Riddle and they themselves are too cowardly to do so. So, they use Harry instead, let the idiot try to fight Riddle’s rule, maybe some positive changes will come of it before Riddle kills him. That’s what they think. We’ll see, is all Harry’s smile suggests. He has what he wanted from the idiots, their vote in his assignation to the Council. If they run away from him like rats from a sinking ship when Riddle turns against him, he does not care. The nomination and assignation is permanent, once they vote him in his bastard status won’t be admissible as grounds to eject him from the Council. The fact that he is not a Black would be, but no one needs to know that little detail yet.

No, the men that can turn on him at amoment’s notice are not of any importance to Harry. What does bother him is something else. Riddle’s actions in the arena and the continued protection of Lestrange until now. The reason why Riddle saved Lestrange is a mystery to Harry. What Harry wants to know is why Riddle interfered in the first place. Riddle, as far as Harry knows, has never visited the arena before. He is known to favor Lestrange, but why? Lestrange’s first mate is Riddle’s mistress of course, but would that make Riddle protect the man? Harry doesn’t believe so. Whether Lestarnge lives or dies won’t interfere with Riddle’s relationship with Bellatrix, and Harry highly doubts that Bellatrix cares about the life of her mate more than what’s strictly necessary because of their bond. Would Riddle interfere for her sake? No. That is not the man he is. Riddle does not support and maintain things or people that are of no use to him. Had Lestrange lost all usefulness, he would have died in the arena.

So, the question is how is Lestrange useful? The man has lost all political and social clout after the humiliation Draco dealt him. Harry did not appear publicly because he chose not to. Lestrange does not appear in public because he cannot. In his circles he has become a social pariah and in the lower circles he is a laughing stock. Harry knows the younger Lestrange brother is contesting Lestrange’s right to lead the family, claiming that his brother’s clear physical and magical limitations make him unfit for the role of patriarch. The thought makes Harry smirk. He expected no less from Rebastan Lestrange, when opportunity knocks as they say. The scandal of Lestrange’s defeat at the hands of an Omega has been so far reaching that Harry defecting to his Omega in the challenge is almost a side note of the juicy story. Lestrange’s problems know no bounds, and yet Riddle seems to support him.

At least he is keeping him alive. There are many that think assassinating Lestrange would solve the unrest he has created. His defeat by an Omega has brought into question the power of the Noble Alphas, whispers of revolt might even be brewing. It is to be expected that some would think that killing Lestrange and making it seem like he was dying from some long term disease that would explain his loss to an Omega because of his weakened state of illness. They believed such tales would calm those that are thinking of challenging the Nobles for power. Harry frowns as he walks through the halls of the Turent, moving towards the steps that lead to the chamber of the High Council. No matter how he thinks about it, Harry cannot see how Lestrange can be anything more than a liability to Riddle at this point. Harry would have expected Riddle himself to have made Lestrange disappear by now, yet that had not happened. Why? Why not?

Harry freezes before taking another step towards the chamber. It’s not political, he realizes. Riddle is not protecting Lestrange for political reasons…it’s the magic. Harry suddenly feels certain. Whatever spell Riddle has used needs Lestrange. Filing the train of thought away, Harry moves on until he reaches the doubles doors that lead to the seats of power, or what once were the seats of power. Soon. Soon, things will change again. Soon, the Turent will feed again. Harry only hopes that this time the hungry beast will feast on the flesh of the guilty and not on that of the innocent.

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Harry removed the garland that had been placed over his Council robes after he had taken his vows and placed it in the hands of the Beta that patiently expected it before moving into the anti-chamber where the members had gathered after the opening of the Council Summit and his ceremony of initiation. The anti-chamber was stifling with almost two hundred members present. Although, Harry was the only new member to be inaugurated this month, Nott having gone through his ceremony several months prior. Usually inaugurations attracted attention and Harry’s certainly would as he was the first illegitimate progeny to ever be accepted into the Council. However, even considering this and the scandal caused by the challenge between Lestrange and Draco, Harry’s inauguration would not have gathered this type of crowd. Harry’s inauguration, however, had coincided with the Council’s Summit, the congregation of the legislative body before the beginning of next year. This was the busiest political period of the year with numerous bills and legislation coming before the Council for voting. The next month was also the time when the final budget for the next fiscal year would be presented to the Council, and it was expected that there would be numerous revisions to it, as there were every year, before it was approved.

Because of this, many Council members that preferred to live in their own territories had traveled to the capital. The majority of faces Harry did not recognize. It was now his job to get to know them all. These were the men he should look to for supporters if he wanted to chip away at Riddle’s hold over the Council. The majority of the Council members that resided in the capital were completely in Riddle’s pocket or too intimidated by the close proximity of the man to really defy him in any overt way. But the men that lived mostly in their regions were different. They usually came to the capital displeased with the legislation passed which usually favored Riddle’s inner circle. They knew the power of the man but leaned against the false security that leaving in their, often remote, regions away from the direct influence of Riddle gave them. They were much more susceptible to Harry’s message. Not only more willing to listen, but also act. Despite this Harry knew that he would have to prove his ability to stand against Riddle before any of them even considered supporting him. He had to show himself as a strong leader, the fact that he was presented as an illegitimate and had allowed his Omega to take his place in a challenged issued to him would make convincing them very difficult to say the least.

Harry takes a calming breath and moves further into the elegant room and is quickly accosted by his father in law. Lucius is in his element, introducing Harry to this and that lord. The older Alpha subtly frisks each person’s brains they speak to until he discovers where they stand on the upcoming issues. Harry makes sure to note those that are particularly dissatisfied with the actions of Riddle’s government.

Harry moves away from Lucius when one of the lords asks the older Alpha for a private word. As he moves toward the refreshments offered to the Council members, he stops and has only a moment to take a breath and prepare himself before Riddle himself in standing before him. The moment is surreal to Harry. After Draco’s challenge, he had seen Riddle briefly during his other visits to the Turent. However, the man had never approached him, had never even acknowledged Harry’s presence. Harry looks into the dark eyes of the tall figure that stands before him examining him with a slight smile on his face. His evaluation of Riddle at the arena had been correct, he thinks. The man was almost unchanged, tall and slender, his face showed nothing of the twenty years that had transpired since the night he watched the Potter Mansion burn. There he stood in Council robes, they were exactly the same as the robes of all the other Council members, including the ones Harry himself wore. In fact, there was nothing that distinguished Riddle from the other members, except for the suffocating, overly warm aura he exuded— the result of bleeding magic. Magic that is not his own to waste, Harry thought as he saw the smile on Riddle’s face widen, making crinkly lines appear around his sharp eyes.

“Congratulations on your appointment Lord Black.” Riddle says in low tone when he reaches Harry.

Harry breaths, his anger and hate actually calming him, steadying him, and ensuring that he responds without any indication that he has any feelings about the man standing before him.

“Thank you, Councilman Riddle” he responds.

“It is pleasing to have new, young members enter the Council. You are the future of our great nation and must participate the construction of a secure and prosperous future for this country.” Riddle continues. Always the politician, Harry thinks as he listens. Riddle’s words are nothing to object to, unless one knows how Riddle means to secure the future of their country—through an expansionist, costly, war that will make Riddle much richer and will cause the suffering of millions.

“Indeed Councilman Riddle, we must all continue to promote stability and _peace_ to ensure the success of our nation.” Harry responds, diplomatically indicating his opposition to what Harry knows are Riddle’s political desires.

Harry smiles blandly at the older man even though he wants to mirk at the hilarity of what is happening. He cannot but find it funny that Riddle is trying to court him to his side, to gain Harry’s support and his vote for the war. Considering that even before becoming a Council member Harry had been hard at work undermining Riddle’s plans, it is simply absurd that he is being approached by Riddle in order to help promote the plans he had worked so hard to destroy.

“Indeed?” Riddle replies, not having missed Harry’s particular emphasis on the peace. “Well…peace is not always attainable, unfortunately.”

“Only because the ambitions of human nature can sometimes get in the way.” Harry replies.

“Not only in such cases. When one is attacked one must defend himself and protect those under him.” Riddle insists.

“Yes, but I foresee no such attack we have enjoyed two decades of peace under the ruling of this wise Council” Harry says.

“But even so…the time might come when arms might be raised again to protect our nation from _the ambitions of human nature_ as you so well put it.” Riddle says as he delicately selects a champagne glass from the refreshment table.

Harry looks at the cool eyes that stare back without any suggestion of recognition. “Yes, you are correct on the point my Lord. The time to fight might come again.” Harry agrees.

War was coming, on that point he and Riddle were in agreement. But, Riddle expected an expansionist war against their neighbors, and Harry knew it was a revolution that was coming. Riddle inclined his head seemingly satisfied with Harry’s concession and excused himself moving to speak with other members of the Council. Harry watch, his wolf growling deep within him with the desire for the blood of his enemy pounding in Harry’s chest.

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Draco moves quickly through the hall of the Black Manor. He had just returned from another function that he had attended with Harry, playing the perfect submissive mate to his husband powerful Alpha role. Draco was exhausted of the rounds. Since Harry’s inauguration into the council it had been one function after another. Meetings, public appearances, dinners, bonding ceremonies. It was a never ending thing and it has been going on for months now. Harry seemed to have successfully pitied himself again Riddle along with Theodore Nott and a number of other members of the Council that lived in the more far removed territories.

During the budgetary debates, Harry and Nott had succeeded in leading a coalition into overruling the budgetary decisions that would have allowed Riddle to have enough funds to start his war campaign. Draco’s father had supported Riddle’s side which they had agreed to beforehand since if he supported Harry, Riddle would become suspicious. Instead, the Malfoy family allowed rumors to surface that there had been a severe falling out between Lucius and Harry which ensured that Harry could set himself as the opposition against Riddle without losing Lucius his position in the inner circle which they needed to know what Riddle’s plans were.

Everything was moving very slowly but surely towards Harry accumulating more and more political influence. He had challenge Riddle several times in the Council Summit and in other meetings and had gained a following, Councilmen who begun to believe that Riddle was not all powerful after all. Things had also become more dangerous. Security was paramount. They all knew that Riddle would not tolerate Harry opposing him for long and would soon try to be rid of the young Alpha once and for all. There had already been a couple of accidents that looked suspicious enough to Draco. They couldn’t visit Eliria at all anymore for fear of being followed and because of the supposed rift between Harry and Lucius, Draco had almost completely lost contact with his family, only seeing his mother in public and not being able to talk much with her at those meetings. He had not seen his father in months. He understood that the act was necessary but that did not make his isolation any easier to bear. He had reconciled with Blaise but because the Notts were also a target as they also opposed Riddle, Theodore had moved his family back to his regional seat in Astrodorst.

Draco moves into his and Harry’s bedroom and stares at the dark and empty bedchamber. Harry had returned only to leave him inside the front door to ensure Draco was safely behind the powerful wards of the Black Manor before dissaparating again. He had told Draco there was a meeting of a small group of Councilmen who wanted to discuss their grievances and see if Harry would be willing to bring them up in the next Council meeting.

“Cowards the lot of them!” Draco growls at the empty room. They want Harry to do everything for them. None of them could stand before Riddle and say “I disagree” without pissing his pants. Draco growls his frustration and anger at the room. How dare they?! He thought. How dare they use his _husband_ as shield, as a scapegoat?! It was true that Harry had courted this, making sure they approached him in order to gain more support against Riddle, but Draco simply can’t stand it. He cannot stand the idea of those men or anyone else putting Harry in the front line, making him the most prominent target for Riddle and his supporters to attack. The fear and stress from thinking that _something might happen_ to his husband has over the past few months eaten Draco alive.  

“So much for the valor of Alphas” Draco mumbles, thinking about the cowards that hid behind Harry, as he began removing his elegant garments, throwing them everywhere without care, the servants would take care of it anyway.

He was tired, so fucking tired. Once all of the clothes that had been asphyxiating him were off, he looked into the elegant full body mirror that stood to one side of their large bedroom. A sliver of moonlight was the only light in the room, but his eyes had adjusted and he could see the ghostly white outline of his body in the mirror. He has lost weight again. He could almost see the outline of his rib bones. He is also paler than usual. Neither is surprising, he can barely eat and a full night’s restful sleep is a thing of the past. He wishes there were at least enough light in the room for him to see the marks he knows pepper his skin. Marks Harry had left. Draco had hated the marks Lestrange’s _attentions_ had left on him, and had thought that he would always have an aversion toward bruises on his body. But, instead, he _likes_ Harry’s marks. He likes that he is never without them, before one fades Harry makes more and Draco more than enthusiastically returns the favor. It makes him…dare he say feel connected?

A frown takes over the dark features he sees in the mirror. There is no safety no security in any of this and he shouldn’t deceive himself. His right hand traces a bruise that is actually visible because the moonlight falls right on it. The bruise is right under his right nipple and as he presses it feeling the light pain, he remembers how Harry had bit into the flesh early this morning as Draco rode him.

His hand moves slowly over his body until it reaches his almost concave stomach and the frown on his face deepens. His stomach is flatter than ever, his loss of weight emphasizing it even more. Three weeks, he thinks as his fingers trace his bellybutton. In three weeks Harry and he will be celebrating their first anniversary. Draco cannot believe it. It seems like yesterday and yet like forever ago that he met Harry and bonded with him. Now a year has passed since and Draco has proven beyond any doubt that he cannot fulfil all the responsibilities of a mate.

His hand rests on his belly as he thinks of what is to come. Harry won’t set him aside like Lestrange did, that is impossible. No, he won’t be humiliated like that again. Even if it were not political suicide, Harry is not the kind of person that would do such a thing. But…A year is what an Alpha customarily waits before mating again. Draco forces himself to breathe through the idea, he swallows convulsively at the thought that, especially considering that they don’t have a child, Harry will now be expected to bond with a second mate, one that can breed.

The slight convulsions begin to shake his debilitated frame and Draco quickly moves toward the bed and sits. He concentrates on breathing through the tightness he feels in his chest. There is no danger, he tells himself over and over, trying to calm the fear welling inside him. The sitting doesn’t help so he begins to pace in the dark room. “Nothing will change” he repeats over and over as he brain screams that everything will change. His hands shift through his hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. Tears come he feels them cool running down his warm cheeks that are flushed. “Nothing will change!” He insists. But his mind knows better. There soon will be someone else, the Weasley girl perhaps, she will be in this house sharing Harry’s bed, which won’t be Draco’s bed anymore, only Harry’s and Draco and the Weasley girl will take turns keeping Harry company in it. Draco will have to _wait for his turn_ , wait in line for the attentions of his husband, because he will be someone else’s husband as well.

Nothing will change, he tells himself again. This is nothing new to him, Lestrange was married to two other mates. But, but, but! It’s not the same. What Lestrange meant to him and what Harry means to him. Draco thinks of the breakfasts sitting across from another of Harry’s mate on the table. He thinks of children and the mantra of “nothing will change” cracks, until the words have no meaning. Harry will have children, a family with another, and Draco…Draco at best will be around to see it happen.

Without thought Draco turns again and his image in the mirror stops him. He stands and stares at his dark reflection. He looks at the gaunt figure outlined there. He is so tired, and he looks it, he thinks. A tired creature, a wasted creature, what has happened to me? He wonders as he looks at the shadow of himself the glass shows him. He moves toward the ornate furniture, grabs the side of the wooden, hand carved frame, and throws the mirror to the ground with as much force as he can master. The crush is deafening, glass flies everywhere, like crystals showering the floor, the armchairs by the window, and the bed.


	13. Of Moments in Time

“I am glad to see you again.” Blaise says with a strained smile as he looks at Draco’s waned face. He smiles more warmly as he watches his twenty month son wiggling around in the arms of the blond Omega.

“Are you really?” Draco replies without looking up from the child sitting on his lap.

The tense atmosphere had been ever present since their argument almost a year ago every time they met. The time apart has not lessened the discomfort that permeates their every interaction since. Draco attempts to act more openly towards Blaise, the brunet is after all his only friend, yet the fear of saying something, anything that might reveal a weakness of Harry’s holds him back. He knows that the Notts are allied with Harry, but alliances between Noble families last only until a better opportunity presents itself. Draco cannot risk putting his mate at risk. Funny, he thinks, Blaise had betrayed his confidence for the sake of his mate and Draco had been offended by the action. But now, after a year as Harry’s bonded mate, he knows he would betray any secret Blaise confided in him to Harry if he thought it would help the Alpha in any way. Knowing this, his anger toward the brunet Omega has gone, but the trust that had existed is gone with it too.

“Draco…” Blaise says and sighs with frustration. “Draco, when…are we ever going to be…”

“We’re fine Blaise. I just— I understand what happened. I understand why you lied to me. I understand why if Theodore asked you, you would. I… Harry for me…” his grey eyes move to meet Blaise’s brown orbs for only a moment before concentrating on the toddler again.

“Yea, I can see that.” Blaise replies with a less strained smile. Draco’s lips pull into a frown at the words and Blaise snorts an inelegant laugh.

“Must be insupportable to you. Loving him. Loving is inconvenient in the best of situations,” Blaise tells him.

“I don’t.” Draco replies as he bounces the restless child on his lap, his eyes never meeting those of his friend.

“You don’t? You know the problem about saying that is that you are saying it to me.”

“Blaise…” Draco says concentrating intensely on the child. “He will be choosing another mate soon.” He finishes before placing the child on the golden Persian carpet that cushions their feet. Little Aaron quickly moves to stand and wobbles away on his chubby feet.

“He needs heirs” Blaise agrees and watches as Draco’s face tightens.

“Oh, Draco…” Blaise says and there is a world of years of friendship, of shared moments of laughter and tears, happiness and pain, of dreams and lost hopes making the words sink to the bottom of the blond Omega’s heart.

“Draco you know he needs to. You will always be his first mate, no one can take that from you.” Blaise tries to offer as comfort.

“I can’t! Blaise I just _cannot_! I know he needs heirs and…” he looks up at his friend, his eyes bruised by months of little sleep, his skeletal hands trembling from the coiling stress that eats at his insides every day.    

Draco takes a deep breath. “I know it needs to happen. I…I think I even know who. She is pretty and, and she _loves_ him Blaise! She loves him and will give him what I cannot. She would be a good mate too, but it _hurts_ to think about it.”

Blaise says nothing. He quickly pushes close to Draco on the couch and hugs him close. Draco tries to accept the sympathy and the support but quickly moves back into his seat breaking the embrace. Pity always leaves a bitter taste in his mouth no matter if those bestowing it care for him or not. In the awkward moment of silence that follows, they both look to the child that runs around the room fascinated by everything he sees. Little Aaron is such a treasure, so full of life and curiosity, but the sight of him only makes Draco heart heavier still.

“How come you don’t have another child yet?” Draco suddenly asks as he folds his hands on his lap.

“Just because I am ferti—I mean, with this situation” Blaise says raising his hand in “everything” surrounding us gesture. “Theo and I think, you know. We worry for Aaron enough as it is. Another pregnancy right now…” That makes sense Draco admits as he considers his friend. In all honesty, Blaise is not much better than Draco. He is also wane, he fidgets nervously every so often, and his eyes shift as if expecting something to rush from a corner and attack. Draco understands what it feels like to live with the fear of Riddle and can see that it’s the same for Blaise. Without hesitation he takes Blaise’s hand and squeezes. The brunet looks at him for a moment before a slight smile turns his lips upward.

“I know it’s hard to live with that man’s shadow over you, but nothing will happen to you Blaise” Draco tells him and he means it. He might not trust Blaise as before, but he still loves him and will do everything he can to help him.

“Don’t tell me lies Draco. We’ve been lucky but…with _him_ no one knows. I—I can’t think sometimes of anything else. It’s like waiting with your neck stretched and the guillotine poised to drop.” He tells the blond.

“Believe me, I know.” The blond responds with candor. Blaise turns to look at his child and his entire body shudders. Draco frowns for a moment before realizing something strange.

“Why are you here then? If you’re so worried Astrodorst is the safest place for you. You should have stayed there.” Draco says. He has been wondering why Nott would bring his family back to the capital so suddenly. Harry had said that Nott brought them with him because he didn’t want to leave them alone in Astrodorst while he came to the capital to vote on the latest budgetary revisions. But as Draco knows after discussing the spell work with Hermione, the Astrodorst Nott home is warded like a fortress. The amount of magic just Harry had pooled into some of the artifacts used to ward the Mansion is impressive, but when that had been added with the magic of the others plus the artifacts amplification ability... The Astrodort Mansion is as well warded, probably better than the Black Mansion. Why leave a place like that?

“Because Theo needed to—”

“No. The vote is not that important, so don’t even try it.” Draco says.

“Draco…”

“Yes, Draco. That’s what you like to say when the answer is important. Why are you here Blaise?” Blaise pulls his hand out of Draco’s grip and raises out of his seat.

“You know, it’s time for Aaron’s feeding.” Blaise says as he moves to grab his son from the other side of the room.

“Blaise!” Draco insists.

“I am glad to see you and…please don’t make this difficult. I _don’t_ want to lie to you.” Blaise begs.

“I’ll see you at our reception dinner next week, then?” Blaise asks as he brings his son closer to his chest.

Draco nods once as the other Omega moves out of the parlor with his giggling son in his arms.

“I’ll see you then.” The blond answers to the empty room.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The man moves swiftly through the dirty back alleys that most would not enter if payed to do so. It was a missed opportunity, in his opinion. The back alleys offer so much more to those of a determined nature with needs to fulfill, whether business or pleasure, than the clean main streets that bathe in the light of the sun. Here for the right price any need can be satiated, not that he indulges much these days, but still. His hand slides across the wall to his left, the ally is so narrow that he has only to stretch his arms slightly to touch the grimy walls on both sides. He feels the thick muck that covers the wall, mostly created by the exhaust of malfunctioning chimneys and the humidity in the air, although other substances have certainly added to the dirt caked to the walls, more than one prostitute make their living spending their time with their faces or backs plastered to the walls as their customers rut them; more than a thousand drunks have taken a piss against the walls when they couldn’t hold it anymore. Anyone else would have been disgusted at the thought of touching the surface, but Peter had come from filth and had never really minded it, even when filth was all he lived and breathed.

Not that he isn’t grateful to his Lord for giving him the opportunity to rise above the life of a street rat. The food at least is much better in the Riddle palace than anything his whore mother had thrown his way when he lived with her in the back alleys of the capital. Bathing is also not so much of a bother when he can get a servant Omega or two to accompany him in his tab; for the right amount of coins everyone is a whore, he discovered. But, the palace is the palace, with all the rules of _appropriate behavior_.

Peter smirks at the thought. For being as evil a bastard as people say he is, his Lord is pretty vanilla. The man is so _proper_. Peter remembers how Lord Riddle had warned him that should he rape any of his Omega servants he would forfeit his life, and Peter had believed it. Servants of Lord Riddle serve loyally for three reasons, he pays well, respects them, and won’t hesitate to slide their throats if they betray him. Most Nobles fuck their incoming Omega servants and even their Betas as soon as they enter their household and whether the servant was willing was really not a topic of consideration, but Lord Riddle had never touched a single one of the servants, though there were more than one pretty thing among his staff.

Maybe the man is in love with that Lestrange woman, Peter considers as he moves through the alleys without having to pay attention to where he is going. These streets are as familiar to him as his own room in the Riddle palace, maybe more so.

When he reaches the corner of Butterlane and Cardon he stops then goes around through Cardon until he finds the back door of the pub that is his destination. Without stopping to knock, he enters and makes his way quickly up the rickety back stairs. As soon as he reaches the third floor, he hears grunts and moans. He smirks and a shot of lust electrifies him for a moment, seems like a submissive is having quit the party with a couple of clients.

“Business first” he murmurs to himself as he passes the door and moves until he reaches the last door on the floor and enters without knocking.

Several swords are pointed at him immediately two of them touching his neck.

“Fuck! You crazy ass. We ‘coul’ve slit ye throat” a man without teeth says and Peter is thoroughly unimpressed.

“Sure you coul’ve” he says in any case.

“Mr. Aldon” another in the room says in greeting as he inelegantly sheaths his sword.

“Malter” Peter greets in return. Malter is really the only person in the room worth the air they’re breathing in Peter’s opinion. A cultured, who knows how, serial killer. Malter is crap with weapons, which considering his penchant for killing is a problem. The skinny man really cannot overpower anyone either, he is so physically diminutive that if not for his Beta scent anyone would think him an Omega. But, Malter was determined to be a killer and try he did until he found the way to fulfill his calling, that way is poison.

Malter is the best poisoner Peter ever came across and considering his Lord’s favoritism of the stuff, that’s saying something.

“You have something for me Mr. Aldon?” Malter asks him and Peter almost forgets to respond to his pseudonym.

“We’ll talk alone” is all he says. With a light signal of his head, Malter sends the others out the door before sitting himself in one of the rickety chairs while offering Peter the second chair.

“You remember a job I got for you couple years back.” Peter said without preamble, he hates wasting time.

“The ’gent.” Malter agreed.

“You did such a good job with that. Tell me why is the same task so hard for you this time around? The second one should be dead.”

“You didn’t pay me for the second one” Malter said fidgeting nervously. Killer or no, Malter knows well enough who is the predator between the two of them. Peter had not had his first kill at the tender age of nine for no reason.

“You get paid when the job is done.”

“He took the poison, I saw him convulse; he is dead.” Malter says.

“That ain’t true and you called me here for your pay when I, with me own eyes, happen to _see_ the dead man walking” Peter says. Malter blinks owlishly at him.  

Suddenly Peter has Malter by the throat. The skinny man shakes and struggles futilely for a moment snot running from his nose, saliva running down his chin as he tries to draw in a breath.

“H—he –he too—took it” he manages.

“Why is he living then?”

“Healer!” Malter says his eyes bulging and Peter releases him.

“What?”

“He—he got a—he—a healer that” a deep breaths “knows poisons.” The skinny Beta finishes.

“Huh.” Peter says throwing the other man on the mattress across the room face first. He moves toward the figure and roughly pulls the others pants down. Malter does not fight him, he does not move as he hears the man remove the buckles holding his pants. Violence and punishment are things they both understand.

Peter moves quickly out of the room once he is finished with the Beta. Malter is still useful so he does not kill him. His anger is more controllable now that he indulged and released some of the tension. So a healer that knows poisons. Makes sense since poison was how Nott senior was killed that the son would be paranoid about it.

Peter makes his way quickly to the back stairs, this is not good. His Lord goes for subtle these days and will not like to know that his favorite method is null. Well, they have the second option to fall on. Much messier, but it will take care of all their problems in one fell swoop.

As he moves through the alleys again, Peter takes a deep breath of the smoke, rotting garbage, and come smells that taint the air enjoying the scent of home.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Draco!” Ginny smiles as she opens the door further to allow Harry and Draco to move further into the entry parlor.

“Ginevra” Draco replies and Ginny’s nose wrinkles in annoyance.

“Please stop calling me that. Really, I had no say on the name thing, but I don’t have to live with it without protest” she tells him with a smirk.

“Hm.” is Draco’s reply.

Ginny’s smiles drops a bit but lightens again when she turns to look at Harry.

“How you been Gin?” The Alpha asks with a smile as he enters the house behind Draco.

“Good, you here for Ron, he left a while ago.” She responds, her eyes focused on the Alpha as Draco removes his outer tunic with jerky movements before hanging it next to the door.

“We know, but Mione is still here, right?” Harry says as he removes his tunic, which Ginny takes and hangs on one of the hooks beside the entry door next to Draco’s.

“Yea, she’s in the kitchen with mom.” Ginny replies.

“Thanks Gin.” Harry says before moving in the direction of the kitchen at the back of the house, Ginny quickly following him and Draco, after shutting the front door with an aggressive push, following behind her.

As soon as the front door is closed, Harry’s magic sets a strong sound ward around the home and he shifts directions and moves toward the bedrooms. Ginny makes to follow but a shake of Harry’s head stops her. She smiles in understanding before moving toward the kitchen again and Draco is more relieved than he cares to admit at her departure.

Harry casts a few more spells to ensure that no one is tracking them, although he cast several similar spells before they apparated here. Even Draco thought their behavior was overly paranoid but he prefers paranoid and alive to tranquil and dead, so he makes no comment as Harry casts again. Once he is satisfied, Harry moves again toward the bedroom hallway.

Once they reach the third door they enter the room to find Hermione and Remus in the small bedroom.

“What happened? Why are the Notts here?” Harry asks immediately the Beta wolf.

“He was poisoned in Astrodorst.” Remus responds.

“Dammit!” Harrys says as he moves restlessly around the room.

“He still should have stayed in Astrodorst. There is no guarantee that he won’t be poisoned here.” Draco reasons.

“Yes, I told him that when he recovered, but he is convinced that the protections placed at Astrodorst are not enough to keep him and his family safe.” Remus responds.

Harry turns to Remus exasperated. “And what?! He thinks the capital is better. Riddle is furious with his refusal to vote in his favor and even more because Theodore won’t commit any troops to his plans of invasion against Verdean. Riddle _needs_ him dead and what does Nott do? He comes to Irised to make his killing easier.” Harry says frustration lined in his jerky movements.

“We can’t protect him here.” Harry finishes.

“He is terrified Harry. The poison they used is a combination of Pattil and Scratisorns. He was withering in excruciating pain for days.” Remus explains.

“How did the poisoner get in?” Draco asks. “I thought the wards would prevent anyone with mal-intent from entering.”

“They do. But if the person who enters doesn’t know what they are carrying is poison, then there is no mal-intent and no detection.” Remus explains.

“Where was the poison hidden?” Asks Hermione.

“In a barrel of mead that Theo favors. I only managed to save him because there were three other people poisoned before him, so I managed to figure out what it was quickly enough from their symptoms.” Remus continues.

“He can’t stay here.” Harry says. “All the artifacts that can protect him and his family are bound to his property in Astrodorst. Here there is nothing, he will be dead within a week.”

“And Blaise and Aaron?” Draco quickly asks.

“They are also in danger. At least as collateral damage. I doubt Riddle cares whether they live or die at this point.” Hermione points out.

“At the dinner tomorrow we’ll talk some sense into him.” Harry says.

“He won’t listen. He doesn’t think Astrodorst is safe. I think he wants you and Draco to take in Blaise and the child. He thinks the Black Mansion is better warded.” Remus says.

“That’s ridiculous. What excuse is there for why they would be straying with us? They aren’t family, everyone would know there’s something going on.” Harry tells him.

Draco looks between the two of them but can see the impasse the discussion has reached so decides not to comment. Theo doesn’t think his family is safe in Astrodorst and will refuse to go back no matter what. The problem is that nowhere is safe. By keeping his power out of the hands of Riddle, Theodore, like his father, has become Riddle’s biggest impediment and is the most likely target for assassination. Harry, even with all his actions against the man, is not nearly in as much danger as Theodore. Being an illegitimate with a depleted fortune and no army Harry’s status doesn’t have the clout to make him a serious threat to Riddle’s power. At least that’s what the man would think and that would mean that he will make Theodore his first target. Draco is sure Theodore saw the same situation and the stress of knowing must be making him desperate.

“His father was killed in Astrodorst and he was almost killed there. It’s just too much for him.” Remus says, his words reflecting Draco’s thoughts.

“We have no protection set on the Nott Mansion here at all. There’s nothing stopping Riddle from killing him right now. Nott is tempting Riddle into action the longer he stays here.” Hermione says with a frown marring her features.

“We should wait until the voting is done. Maybe Nott can be convinced to return to his seat after or one of us can go with him…Maybe Sirius can reinforce the wards and that will calm Nott” Hermione proposes as a compromise.

“You don’t think Nott will break and go to Riddle’s side?” Harry asks of his husband.

Draco takes a moment to think about the situation. It must be tempting for Theo. “No.” he says.

“Theodore knows what Riddle did to the other members of the inner circle. He knows that accepting would mean the end of his line. He knows Riddle would first drain him financially, militarily, and finally magically. That’s a death sentence, no Noble, no matter how afraid, would accept that.” Draco says.

Harry nods in acceptance. That was his own evaluation of Nott. Afraid but determined, the man would never allow Riddle access to his money, military, or magic, something that Riddle obviously knows, which makes keeping Nott alive all the more difficult.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco moves among the group of selected guests easily enough, even if his exhaustion and stress make every interaction an almost painful affair. Every wave in greeting is a trial as his limbs feel as if filled with lead and sinking under water. He had been unable to eat more than a couple of bites during the dinner, bile rising up his throat every time he thought about the danger in which Blaise and his godson are in. On top of everything, Harry had not stopped looking in his direction and frowning while they dinned, which made eating even more difficult for Draco.

Harry was worried, had been for months, but after he had Remus examine him yesterday it had gotten worse. Remus’s medical examination had discovered what was clearly visible to anyone who looked at the blond Omega. Draco is suffering from chronic exhaustion and stress which have led to a sharp drop in his weight, insomnia, increased paranoia, and privately Remus had added depression. Harry had attempted to discuss the issue when they had apparated to the Black Manor, but Draco had adamantly refused to discuss it. What was there to discuss? The problems that are consuming him have no solution. Riddle and the threat of death to those he cares for won’t disappear if they discussed it, and in any case, he had spoken to Harry in the past about it. There is nothing new there and he does not want to seem weak or overbearing with his worries about Harry’s and his parents’ safety.

As for the other matter that twists his innards every day, that has no solution either. He is barren and Harry needs heirs if he is ever to restore the Potter family and regain control over the Potter lands. Harry _needs_ to take another mate. Draco knows this, accepts it in a reasonable manner. But _emotionally_? No. He just can’t. Ginny is nice, cheerful and obviously loyal to Harry. The only fault Draco finds in her is her desire to marry _his husband_. How does an Omega go about explaining that he does not want to _share?_ It is a fact of life, Alphas can mate three times and most do.

Draco has no basis for the emotional turmoil he feels. Harry has a _right_ to mate again, and he also has a _need_ to do so since Draco is defective. It’s not like Harry will be cheating on him. And _yet_ to Draco it feels like cheating. He knows it’s his fault for putting too much stock on his bond with Harry, more so than the bond requires. The bond does not require the passion and desperation he feels when he thinks of the Alpha. The bond does not require _love._ But love he gave to it anyway, and Draco is not a generous person at heart. His love is possessive and demanding. He wants Harry’s attention and devotion to be complete, and maybe if he had given the Alpha a child he could have demanded complete devotion from him. No, no maybe about it. Draco _knows_ that had he been able to conceive he would have done everything to keep Harry to himself, but he had not managed it.

Not for lack of trying either. He had to beg Remus not to tell Harry about the number of potion’s residue he had found in Draco’s blood. They were all fertility inducing potions. Draco had been on them before when Lestrange brought in numerous healers to treat him in an attempt to correct whatever problem Draco had. At the time, he had been on a potion or a combination of two potions at a time. Without telling Harry, Draco had contacted Severus Snape, his old healer, and convinced him to procure the potions for him again.

At first he started taking them as prescribed feeling sure that somehow, even if the potions had proven futile the times he coupled with Lestrange while taking them, he was sure that they would work this time. As weeks went by and one heat came and went with no result, followed by another, and another, and another, he became more desperate. He started combining the potions hoping that it would make them more potent. The results were mixed and all disastrous. His heats became irregular, a few times he went into heat more than once in the same month. His mood was also affected, he became needy, more paranoid, jealous, and depressed. He would go from a towering rage into simpering depression without provocation and his appetite first increased and then diminished dramatically. He managed to convince Harry that all the changes were caused by the stress he felt, hiding the fact that he was under the influence of six different fertility potions at any given time.

He had only stopped the treatment after their anniversary, when he finally admitted defeat. He is lucky that none of the potions were addictive but that does little to console him. He has resoundingly failed at his mission to become pregnant. Beyond that, he has tortured his husband with his mood swings without giving him any explanation for them, and the guilt he saw in Harry’s eyes broke his heart. His secrets were making Harry believe that Draco’s problems were all his fault and Draco has done nothing to correct the notion; he has kept his silence. Worse still, he lied to Harry. Harry has made every effort to be open with him to include him ever since they reconciled after the challenge against Lestrange. How has Draco repaid Harry’s honesty? By lying to him at every turn for months now by taking advantage of the guilt Harry feels. Because maybe, just maybe, Harry won’t take another mate if Draco is unwell; he’ll have to care for him and won’t have time for another.

The thought shames him as he sees the etched frown full of worry on Harry’s face. And if Draco is honest, he needs Harry to help him but cannot tell him what the problem is. This inability of his body feels like such a _failure,_ such an absolute failure. It’s so much, it makes him feel like everything else he is or has accomplished means nothing because the one thing he was born to do he cannot do. What is an Omega without a womb? What is he? This lack is so deep that he cannot share it, not even with the person he shares his body, his magic, and even his feelings with. This failure is a crack in the very image of what makes him Draco. A crack on his mind and soul that keeps splintering day after day, making being alive such a _chore_.

When he is honest, Draco can admit that he could have lived without children. Maybe that’s why he did not conceive because his need for a child was always selfish. When he was with Lestrange, it was about protecting himself, give the man a child and the pain and humiliation would stop. Now, with Harry, it’s about possession. Give Harry a child and Harry can be his alone, no sharing, no others invading his space, challenging his hold on Harry’s heart and soul, only Draco. Maybe if Draco had ever desired a child simply for himself the Gods would not have punished him this way.

Problem is he never learned how to desire children for the sake of the children themselves. People of his station always talked of heirs not children. They loved their progeny once they had them but the reason for having them was never routed in love or pure desire. It was a necessity, children to continue bloodlines, to inherit wealth and responsibilities, to marry off to create advantageous alliances. That is how he has understood the idea of procreation all his life—necessary and mechanical fulfillment of a contract. But the world had placed all the worth he could ever have on this single capability of his. His ability of lack thereof of providing an Alpha with heirs is all he is good for. Everything else he ever did, everything else he accomplished would never signify anything because at the end of the day he was, is, and always will be a barren Omega. Just that.

The anger that shoots heat through his veins at his thoughts make his hands shake notably for a moment and he casually hides them from sight.

“Everything all right Draco?” Harry says when he reaches his side.

“You know it’s not.” Draco responds not bothering to turn to look at Harry. Suddenly he feels so much anger toward the Alpha he doubts he can look at him without attacking him.

Not that he can attack even if he wants to. The bond would never allow it. The thought sends a bolt of rage through his spine and his canines elongated behind his tense lips. Why? Why did his life have to always be controlled by something beyond his will? Why was it always his womb, his heats, or the bond, why could it never be what he _wanted?_ Why couldn’t he just transform right now and attack Harry like he, Draco, wanted to!

“Draco!” Harry hissed at him, his eyes wide as he felt Draco’s anger flooding the connection of their bond.

The call of his name suddenly pulls his back from the rage. What is wrong with me? He thinks while looking at Harry with fear in his gray eyes. He had just thought of attacking Harry for no reason. What is wrong with me, he keeps repeating in his mind.

“I—I don’t feel well.” Draco says after a moment, his eyes moving along the room looking at the few other guests that still remain in the Nott residence.

“We should leave.” Harry says, his eyes boring into the stiff form of his mate. “I have to finish my discussion with Nott. I will be only a few more minutes and we’ll go.” He says.

Harry takes half a step and stops, turning to look at his mate once more. “We will talk about it when we are alone.” He warns the Omega, but Draco simply turns away with a casual “I’ll say goodbye to Blaise” before moving away.


	14. Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and happy holidays. I tried to get this out by Christmas but...well it's out now! : )  
> Not a very cheerful chapter but I hope you enjoy in any case.

Draco moves leisurely through the grand halls on his way to the family wing of the mansion where one of the servants informed him Blaise had gone to check on his sleeping son. The family wing is on the east side to the back of the great house all the windows there afford a beautiful view of the lake and park in which the Nott house is nestled in. These rooms are the furthest away from the entertaining rooms where the guests have been congregating. Draco climbs the marble steps and then turns right well aware of the location of the nursery where he himself played with Theodore when they were young. His steps are slow and measured, an attempt to take as much time as possible before having to speak with Harry again. As he moves through the hall he thinks of his future, his life with Harry shared with another person with equal rights to Harry as he has now, more so if this person provides Harry with a family. Draco hates feeling this… vulnerable, Harry building a family with someone else…with Ginny is a fear that consumes him. The vision is a heavy burden pulling him to the bottom. A bleak future poisoning his present every minute of every day, and it has quite exhausted him.

He is three doors away from little Aaron’s room when an explosion shakes the entire mansion and for a moment he loses his footing, landing on his knees as the floor shudders beneath him.

“What the—” is all he manages before intense heat radiating from the floor stops him and soon his sensitive nose catches the faint wafts of smoke, burnt wood, a slightly pleasant smell, like the smell of pine burning in the fireplace.

Draco quickly jumps up ready to run back to the main floor in search of Harry when snarling from Aaron’s room stops him. Without giving himself time to think, he runs the remaining distance to the child’s room and throws the door open only to stop frozen at the entrance as he sees Blaise’s midnight color wolf fly across the room crashing into the upturned armoire before landing on the floor apparently lifeless the blood seeping from the body appearing black in the darkness of the room. The room is a disaster, furniture thrown about, the Persian carpet and silk curtains shredded to pieces, glass and wood splinters litter the floor, and the smell of copper is so strong Draco feels it in the back of his throat. Draco feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end as Aaron’s wails assaults his ears while the smell of his friends blood and the increasing smokiness of the air makes him want to hurl. Then he turns to look at the intruder that attacked Blaise, and Draco feels a sharp stab of anger when he sees the other wolf is someone he recognizes, Lestrange. As the wolf moves toward the other side of the room, toward the upturned crib from where the desperate wails can be heard, Draco runs forward, transforming in time to rush the other and push him away from the crib.

The fight is nothing like their previous encounter in the arena, little to no magic is used as both are too incensed to concentrate on using magic. Teeth and claws determine the fight as the two wolves take over the mind and bodies of the humans. Within minutes Draco is bloodied and lightheaded. He bleeds from his face where his cheek has been ripped open. One hind leg practically useless the ligament shredded by Lestrange’s sharp teeth. He’s managed wounding the Alpha wolf but not severely enough and now he can’t even use magic to stop Lestrange as all his magic is working on healing the wounds on his face and leg. The larger wolf moves in for the final attack when snarling from the other side of the room is all the warning he gets before the shape of Blaise’s midnight wolf lands on him. Blaise sinks his teeth on the nape of the larger wolf and holds for dear life. Before Lastrange has time to dislodge Blaise from his back, Draco attacks as well sinking his teeth in the soft part of the exposed throat and the larger wolf makes a whining sound that comes out as a strange gargle just before his voice chords are crushed by the unrelenting Omega’s teeth. Without hesitation Draco twists his head and his entire body away from the Alpha wolf while Blaise holds the other immobile with the little magic he has at his disposal. A ripping sound announces the end as skin and muscle give way and Lestrange’s throat is ripped out.

The two Omegas let go of the carcass immediately, not even paying attention to the spasmodic motions of the wolf’s body as it reaches the end. By the time the death throes of Lestrange’s wolf stop, Blaise has already transformed and is moving toward the large, upturned mahogany crib to collect his crying son. He tries to pull the furniture out of the way, his nails scraping uselessly against the heavy wooden crib. He gives up on moving it and finally crawls behind and pulls the child out, only to suddenly collapse with a pained scream on the floor close to the broken window, the toddler landing on his father. Draco tries twice to transform but his magic is too strained with healing him to allow the transformation. In his wolf form he moves to Blaise’s side to discover if the other still breaths. The wolf sniffs at the body whining for his friend to show any sign of life while the room begins to fill with smoke.

As breathing becomes more difficult Draco finally manages to transform into his human form, his wounds still bleeding down his naked body. He grabs the sobbing child that has started to chock on the smoky air and moves it closer to the window to allow the boy to breathe as much clear air as possible. As smoke begins to impair his visibility, Draco decides to take a chance of trying to escaping through the window. He sees there is a small ledge not wider than a foot and followed by air and a three story drop to the ground. Whatever method Lestrange used to climb up was gone. They are trapped in a burning room he realizes, fear finally gripping him for the first time since the struggle with Lestarnge begun.

“Help!” He screams choking and coughing into the darkness as the smoke billows around him escaping through the broken window to rise into the night sky.

The temperature in the room is quickly rising and in desperation Draco uses what’s left of his magic to create three bubble charms with clean air for Aaron, Blaise, and himself. He continues to chock even in the clear air provided by the charm surrounding his head as the pain of his wounds quadruples when the magic dedicated to healing them is taken away. Draco tries screaming for help again, but the charm does not allow his voice to penetrate it and so no sound comes out. Sinking to his knees next to the window the child still in his arms but his cries now silent thanks to the life sustaining charm around his small head, Draco looks toward the door of the room from where immense heat is radiating. He knows there is no escape waiting past that door. The hallway must be already engulfed in flames and soon the door will be consumed as well and nothing will stand between the three of them and a torturous end.

Draco can’t hold the tears that stream down his face as the heat intensifies and all visibility is lost in the black smoke. He can hear the door begin to crackle, the wood catching fire. He holds little Aaron tighter to his chest and desperately seeks his connection to Harry trying to at least indicate to his mate where he is. He searches inside himself for the connection but feels nothing. As if there is no connection at all to grasp. This more than anything terrifies him. Even if he had always told Harry that the Alpha could not protect him, Draco had in a secret part of his soul believed, despite his realistic views that Harry would, when truly needed, be there for him; not being able to feel his mate now is like the gods are telling him that this is it for him. This is his end.

“Like HELL!!” he yells even if the sound does not escape the bubble. As bright orange light begins to filter into the room when the door begins to disintegrate pushing the heat to painful levels and making his skin blister, he jumps back up toward the window and removes the bubble charm. The heat immediately attacks his face, drying his tears in seconds.

“Heeeellllp! Heeeelllllp! Help! We’re up HERE!” he shouts into the night before a coughing fit cuts him short. He tries to draw breath but all he gets is burning smoke that dries his throat up making trying to utter any noise other than painful coughs impossible. He tries to recast his charm but he feels the magic pull away from Blaise and Aaron to do it and he stops keeping the bubbles over their heads.

“Hell—p. Please…Harry…” he whizzes as dizziness from lack of oxygen takes over, and even in the brightness of the flames his sight goes black and everything is darkness and heat.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The slight movement has him across the room in a moment staring down at the figure lying in the center of the twin bed. The chest keeps extending, this time more deeply than it did when he was in deep sleep. The Alpha watches as the sheets covering the body move as the breaths become deeper. He looks at what he can see of the other’s face, his chin and right temple are covered by bandages but the Alpha concentrates on the visible eyes until they finally crack open and stormy grays looks around not able to focus on anything.

“H…arry…” he whispers so softly, the Alpha does not even hear it only reading the lips as they move and he knows it’s his name the other calls out before the eyes are shut again.

With a moment’s pause to breathe more easily as he looks at the slight form of his Omega, Harry moves from the side of the bed to the door of the small room opening it and calling out “He’s wake,” before moving to the side of the bed again.

“He’s awake?” Remus says as he moves quickly into the room, his supplies cradled in his arms.

“He opened his eyes for a moment but I think he’s asleep again.” Harry replies, his eyes never leaving the form that seems so small and defenseless while it lies under the sheets struggling to continue breathing.

Remus moves closer to look at his patient. He carefully moves the bandages from his forehead to reveal blistering skin oozing blood and puss from the infected area. Magical fire was a terrible thing. Even without direct contact it could burn and continue burning the body until it consumed the victim. It was necessary to purify the victim as soon as possible and continue to cleanse the wounds until they healed completely. As it is, he can tell that Draco’s facial wounds will heal without scarring for the most part, there might be a small scar on his chin where the skin had pulled slightly as it healed leaving that section slightly shinier than the rest of the skin around the wound. If he had the breathing charm on, there would have been no wounds on his face at all, but if that had been the case, no one would have heard him screaming from the window and Draco, Blaise, and the child would have burned to death. As it was, the child was completely recovered and Blaise…well, he would need time.

“All seems good. The wounds don’t seem to be festering and the infection here is healing. One more cleansing and the cursed fire will be completely removed from him” Remus says as he applies some salve on the bleeding wound on the forehead after cleaning it.

“Hn” is all Harry answers and Remus turns to him.

“You need to rest” he tells the young Alpha he considers his own pup.

“He might wake up again and I need to—”

“Harry, it’s been more than a week and you have been sleeping less than four hours. When was the last time you ate? Bathe? You’re not any good to him like this or to Sirius and the others. There are too many things happening and our time is running out.”

Remus tells him calmly trying to make the young Alpha see reason and for once leave the room for more than a few minutes. It’s hard, he knows, to have your mate wounded, sick and not able to help. How many times had he sat by Sirius’s bedside not been able to do more but not been able to rest because what if? The only way to ensure that Sirius would not succumb to his wounds was to watch over him at all moments so that he would not slip away unnoticed or so he had felt in those moments. He can clearly see that Harry feels the same, the fear that if he does not stay put, fates might steal his mate away.

“He’s out of danger, just resting.” Remus reassures him.

“I…yea, I know.” Harry says as his hands come up to rub his tired face, his eyes burn from lack of sleep and his entire body feels heavy with exhaustion, yet he has not managed a single night of sleep without the nightmares assaulting him. Memories of the Potter Mansion burning mesh with those of the Nott Mansion aflame, memories of his mother trapped in that house now combine with Draco. Draco burning, Draco screaming as the flames consume him, burn away his flesh, his hair, his eyes until there is nothing. Harry has seen the same vision every time he sleeps since the attack. So much so that he is afraid of closing his eyes because he knows the terror will begin the moment he does.

“How is Blaise?” He asks Remus solemnly.

“Still…” Remus says no more. Even for those in the house not suffering from nightmares like Harry’s, it was hard to sleep as they all heard the pain filled howling, growls, and whimpers of the tortured Omega. Losing a mate so violently had killed many, but Remus hoped that would not be the fate of his other charge.

“Isn’t there something you can give him?” Harry asks as he more than the others who out of pure exhaustion manage to sleep through the pained howling hears Blaise’s pain all through the night and most of the day. The man is on numerous nutrition potions since he has yet to be coherent enough to eat anything but has been given nothing to take the edge off his pain.

“If he continues like this I don’t think he’ll make it” Harry says looking back at his own mate and wondering if he could have made it if Draco had burned alive like Theodore did or would he also had been consumed by the madness that had taken over Blaise at the death of his mate. No. Harry knows he would not have lasted as long as Blaise has, his madness would have consumed him in moments as opposed to days.

“He has a young pup, his wolf will try to pull through, if only for the child’s sake. Hopefully this will help him recover. There is nothing I can give him other than sedatives that would immobilize him, keep him quiet, but he would still be in pain and howling and moving helps his body discharge all the pain. I don’t want to take that from him it would make things worse.” Remus explains and Harry nods to show he understands but never stops watching Draco's shallow breaths.  

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Theo…is dead?” Draco says slowly as he tries to understand what has happened in the week and a half he has been unconscious. His wounds have finally healed leaving behind only a small scar on his chin as reminder of the inferno that almost consumed him.

“How?” He asks of Harry who is sitting by the side of his bed. They are back in Eliria Draco knows as he recognizes the room as the one he shared with Harry before they moved to the capital.

“When the fire begun and the attack, Theo fought his way upstairs to try and get Blaise and Aaron. There were wolves everywhere and no one could follow him. He became trapped in one of the burning hallways when part of the ceiling collapsed and his magic had been too exhausted from fighting…he didn’t have time to cast a shield before the fire…” Harry stops not needing to say more.

Draco shudders at the thought. The cursed fire had not even touched him and still had almost killed him. To have that vicious flame wrap around your body and feel it eating away at your flesh, and Blaise! Connected to Theo, feeling as his mate died in such a way. Draco does not realized he is silently crying until Harry’s fingers move across his cheek to dry the tears.

“And Blaise?” he asks, but already knows as an ear splitting howl shakes the house, the pain so raw, Draco feels his stomach turn.

“Oh gods” Draco says when the voice lowers and looks at Harry.

“Remus is doing all he can but…hopefully Aaron presence will make him recover.”

“Harry…” is all Draco can say and just that is enough to have the Alpha wrapping his in his arms.

“I’m sorry” Harry says as he feels the shudders that shake his Omega as he deals with the death of his friend and the pain of one he considers a brother.

“Will he be alright” Draco whispers before another cry shakes him. Oh Blaise, is all he can think as he hears the pain.

“I don’t know” Harry responds not knowing what else to say. He had seen some wolves recover quickly from the death of their mates not having had any feelings for their mates other than those required for the bond, there had been no love, no connection beyond the bond in those cases. The one time he saw an Alpha lose a mate he truly cared for... no, the man never recovered, madness and death.

“Maybe if he mates again” Harry says.

“How could he?!” Draco asks. “Listen to him! He’s not even able to talk just howl…” he says as more tears run down his face.

“He is an Omega Draco, a new mate would stabilize him.”

“You don’t understand!” Draco says pulling out of the Alpha’s arms. “Binding him to another won’t make him forget his mate, he loved Theo, Harry! He loved Theo and if he loved him half as much as I—!” Draco abruptly stops and Harry’s eyes widen as the unfinished sentence floats between them.

“Just creating a new bond won’t fix this” Draco finally says rubbing a hand over his face to erase the evidence of his tears.

“Just because we are Omega does not mean that our pain does not run as deep as yours.” Draco tells him soberly, suddenly feeling completely exhausted and unwilling to continue with the conversation.

“I want to go see him” he tells the Alpha before he moves to get up from the bed. Harry has no opportunity to say anything before his mate disappears through the door.

In the empty room he sits on the bed looking out the window into the mid-morning day, the field that surrounds the cottage, the forest beyond it.

“If he loved Theo half as much as you…” he mumbles.

“What a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. Bloody hell” he says before leaving the room making his way to kitchen where the rest congregated as they discussed how to act now that Riddle had made his first move. As much as Harry would like to stop time and _think,_ he simply cannot, not now. So, his feelings and Draco’s will have to wait, how long he isn't sure. Maybe he could say it someday, but if matters progress as he thinks they will…some things might be better left unsaid.


	15. The Death of the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I am very proud cause...I got another chapter as I said I would! Gosh, sometimes I impress myself. Enjoy!

Lady Zabini was an intimidating woman. More so than other Alpha women Draco had met, Blaise’s mother was the head of the Zabini clan and as such a woman not to be taken lightly. Perhaps because she had been born a woman yet Alpha she felt that she needed to be harsher than even other Noble Alphas. The magic that crackled around her body was the only indication of her Alpha status when she was in human form.

Lady Zabini was tall and lean, elegant with her olive skin and eyes so dark her pupils almost blended in. Her hair was always piled up away from her neck in the exact opposite fashion of Omegas whose hair usually laid down to hide their neck. An Omega who showed their neck was considered indecent because as a vulnerable part an Alpha bit when mounting an Omega, the nape was a highly sexualized part of the Omega’s body. That was the reason why cutting an Omega’s hair was shameful to them, because it exposed their neck. Draco was glad his hair was long enough to cover the area again. But Lady Zabini was no Omega and like most Alpha she displayed her neck freely almost challenging anyone to question her right to do so; no one had dared. He lips were the lips of legends full and supple, so attractive was her form and face that more than one Noble Alpha had attempted to claim her despite her own status as an Alpha.

It was not to be. An Alpha claiming another Alpha was unheard of the challenge for dominance would be never ending. Even though female Alphas carried their young and could not impregnate others, they tended to mate with male Betas although Draco had heard of female Alphas taking Omegas as second or third mates for the pleasure of having them since progeny is those cases was not possible. But Lady Zabini had never taken an Omega as a mate. Instead, Lady Zabini had currently two Beta male mates, her first mate and Blaise’s father having perished during the last year of the Clash. Lord Aaron Zabini, after whom Blaise’s son was named, was the father Blaise never met as he died while Blaise was still in his mother’s womb.

The Lady Zabini had birthed six children the youngest being only five while her second, Balise’s younger sister by two years had recently presented and was the heir, another Alpha female named Amera. Amera would be the fourth consecutive female Alpha to head the Zabini family after her mother passed. It was a mystery why the Zabini line produced so many female Alphas when it was so uncommon for all other families.

The intimidating Lady now sat with an air of casualness in Lucius’s study Lucius sitting behind his office and Harry and Draco having taken the two other sits in the room. Draco knew Harry had brought him to this meeting in order to reassure Lady Zabini that her son and grandson were in fact still alive which was rumor was not the case since bearer and child had disappeared after the ‘tragic accident’ as it was called that occurred in the Nott mansion.

“I am supposed to trust your mate to speak the truth about the lives of my son and grandson? He is bound to you and owes no loyalty to my son” Lady Zabini asked calmly of Harry after Draco was done telling her that Blaise was alive but very weak and distraught, suffering the effects of his mate’s sudden death.

“We would not reveal ourselves as the one hiding them if we wanted to harm them. We have no reason to help you my Lady but here we are telling you that you family is safe and sound.” Harry replies calmly.

“And what might you want in exchange for their return?” She asks waiting for the declaration of the ransom.

“My dear Estell, there is no price on your child’s and his son’s head.” Lucius intervenes smoothly. “Harry and the others took Blaise and the child in order to hide them from the persons who attacked the Nott mansion killing you son-in-law.”

“I thought that fire was an accident Lucius” she replies clearly not believing any such thing. Magical fires did not start by accident.

Lucius does not bother replying to her sarcastic comment. All in the room knew that fire was no accident and Lucius would eat his cane if Estell Zabini did not already know all about who ordered her progeny burned to a crisp. Estell must be furious and she was not a woman to abide such treachery against her own, no Alpha could. Even if Blaise belonged to another house, he was still her child and having birthed them, she was more attached to her children than most Alphas. The woman, Lucius was sure saw the attack as a declaration of war against her family and would act in accordance.

“Lady Zabini” Harry begins again. “Your son is in danger still—”

“Do not presume to tell me such obvious things as if I were not aware of them child—” she says interrupting him.

“Then, I expect you have a plan concerning how to protect him and Theodore’s heir” Harry says interrupting her as well.

Her eyes narrow at the young Alpha an expression between slight humor and annoyance shown in her face at his rudeness.

“Well” she says before leaning more comfortably into her sit. “My son will be mated again, his new mate will ensure his safety.” She says as matter of fact.

“But—” Draco says and all turn to look at him.

Someone else might have been intimidated at having three Alpha focus on him in such a strained meeting, however, Draco was more than used to stress by now and the attention did not faze him.

“He is still grieving and in no condition to go through another mating. Beyond this, to have a mating contest for him now…There is no way of knowing if someone that shouldn’t win will take him and if they support our enemies… Blaise’s and Aaron’s life would still be in danger.” He finished choosing not to mention Riddle in his speech. Not that Riddle would participate in the contest, the man had never mated and the only person that was known to grace his bed was Draco’s aunt Bella Lestrange, now the widow of her late husband. But he would support a candidate and that would be a thread to the life of his friend and godson.

“There will be no contest” lady Zabini replied nonchalantly, dismissing the idea with a wave of an elegant hand. “The mating contest is required only for the first mating of an Omega. Now as head of the family I have a right to select my son’s new mate without a contest.”

“But Blaise does not belong to your family anymore but to the Notts. It’s their right to select a mate for him if they want or to mate him to one of their own.” Harry says frowning.

“Indeed and they would have every right to do so without consulting me even, but they are at a disadvantage as they do not know where Blaise is” she says with a smile. “If my son were to return already mated to a new Alpha, one who happens to have a legal claim to my grandson as well granted to him by Theodore while he lived…” she says no more, but her dark eyes drill into Harry.

“What?” Draco says looking from his Alpha to Lady Zabini and back. In the momentary silence, Draco feels the hair at the back of his neck rising.

“How do you know about Theodore’s grant? I did not receive the papers until two days ago” Harry says.

“Who do you think was holding those papers Lord Black?” She asks him.

“It would be a good alliance… Blaise would be a good addition as your second mate Harry.” Lucius says.

“It would be a great alliance for your son-in-law more than for me.” She replies to Lucius’s comment. “My son would bring with him a generous fortune left to him in trust by his late father as well as great political connections, and a womb.” she finishes.

Draco feels the bile rising as the words of the Alphas spiral around him and through him and chock him, but can say nothing. He is frozen in place waiting as if watching a terrible accident happening before his eyes, not being able to stop it, only able to witness with horror as it unfolds. His body remains unmoved as everything falls into place.

“Theodore specified that should something befall him, you Lord Black would be his son’s guardian until the boy reached the age of maturity and could claim his fortune and title. I can only assume he chose you as opposed to his own cousin the noble Everet because, well Everet being next in line to inherit might have presented a conflict of interest that would ensure my grandson never reached his maturity.”

“However” she continues. “The fact that Theodore considered you capable of protecting his son does not mean _I_ think you capable of protecting mine.”

“Are you challenging me?” Harry asks her calmly, his internal turmoil a result of the tension and rising fury he feels radiating from his bond with Draco rather the discussion taking place which he had been expecting from the moment he received Theodore’s papers granting him custody of Aaron.

“I will not give one of my children to an untried Alpha. If you are to be my son’s mate, you will earn the right to have him.” She says confirming that she is indeed challenging him.

She stops her speech as Draco shoots out of his chair and without a word moves to the door exiting the room and disappearing into the hallway.

Before he is out of ear shot he hears his father say “a public fight is not possible, but the gardens in the back have enough room if you want to get this business done with.”

None of the Alphas commented on the Omega’s departure as all like one move to make their way towards one of the Malfoy Manor’s gardens.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the large windows in of his old bedchamber, Draco observes the fight between Estell Zabini and Harry. The two wolves are equal in size, in fact Lady Zabini’s is slightly stockier than Harry’s. The fight is vicious and even from this distance Draco can sense the magic both wolves use to attack one another or heal their wounds. Without being bound to Riddle, Lady Zabini’s magic is not impaired or atrophied in the way that Lestrange’s and Lucius’s magic is and for the first time Draco observes a fight between two equally powerful Alphas is their prime. It is surprising how well Harry is holding up against an Alpha whose magic is almost two decades more mature than his.

By looking at the fight, Draco knows that even fighting with Blaise, had Lestrange’s magic not been stolen by Riddle they would not have survived, they had been lucky. The two wolves crushed into each other, their bodies rolling about as they bit and clawed and magic flew about burning the grass around them while Lucius observed from a distance.

It took hours, three, four? Draco was not sure as he stood unmoving following every move of the wolves with his eyes, but the sun was much lower now, the light tinting orange instead of the clear bring white of the day. Neither wolf had dropped but they both looked quite exhausted. At some point the two separate and instead of attacking again, suddenly, Lady Zabini transforms, her body bare to the world without concern as she stands in her beauty and dominance without shame. Harry also transforms and looks the woman in the eyes. The Lady approaches the other Alpha until she is close enough to present her hand to him without a word, the other Alpha kneels and Lady Zabini pressed her right hand’s fingers to his forehead, the sign of giving blessing in the name of the five gods to a successful suitor.

It was done. The challenge was over. Harry had won himself a new mate, and Draco felt himself finally break.


	16. Snake on the Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone that commented on the previous chapter. Truly, I have never received so much feedback and wanted to say Thanks!  
> Now, in return for your fabulous pain filled comments I have another chapter to offer. Please enjoy and Happy New Year to all.

Harry jumps to his feet before Lady Zabini has time to finish the declaration of acceptance and almost sprints into the manor, forcing his clothing back onto his body with a small burst of magic. The feelings pounding at his bond feel like an internal burn as if part of his brain is in an oven baking. The bond’s magic is burning into his core, like an electric rod that he cannot let go of. This was something he was accustomed to in the last six months but it never got easier.

“Damn” he says as he stumbles, dizzy for a moment. Bonds were not supposed to feel this way to convey so much emotion or magic from one bonded partner to the other but Remus had warned him about possible damage after he imbibed the potion that allowed his core to open and Draco access the magic within to fight Lestrange. Harry remembers the conversation clearly after he woke free of fever and Draco was not present.

_“You are still magically exhausted and recuperating completely will take some time” Remus said as he placed crystals the color of emerald on his forehead, shoulders, and belly bottom._

_“So everything is fine. I just need time?” Harry said, trying to move as little as possible so as not to disturb Remus’s reading of the crystals._

_Remus sighed, before removing the crystals._

_“I’ve been monitoring you throughout the fever and can say you’ll recover for the most part, but not…wholly.” He finished looking at Harry’s confused eyes._

_“There are side effects?” he asked of Remus. Remus had warned that anything from losing all magic to simple fatigue could be the result of taking the potion depending on how his body’s chemistry reacted with the toxic ingredients. If Harry were younger and his core still developing, the potion would have been less dangerous as developing cores are more flexible as it were and can more easily recover from stress. But Harry’s core was fully formed and thus more powerful and less flexible, it was harder for something to damage him magically now that his core was fully formed, but once something did damage it, it was also harder to heal it._

_“It seems that your core healed up to a point but nor completely so you will have a permanent leak as it were toward Draco.” Remus explained._

_“A leak? Both ways?” Harry asked_

_“No. His magic won’t leak into you, but yours might leak into him.”_

_“This is bad?”_

_“The rapture is small so it should not affect you too much but it will make your connection to him more intense, sometimes even painful when the bond is overcharged.” Remus said._

Painful did not begin to describe it, Harry thinks as he takes deep breaths to control the familiar nausea, he was sure Nerissa would not appreciate him vomiting all over her Persian carpet and marble floors.

“Damn it Draco.” Harry says through his teeth. Honestly he is used to the pain by now. Almost for the past six months, Draco’s moods had cause the intensity in their bond to fluctuate constantly. Sometimes the bond became so charge Harry felt like he would black out. The night of the fire had been like this, the bond searing his brain and the magic fire almost breaking though his charms and burning him alive. He was not sure how he managed to hold it long enough to get to Draco and the others.

Taking deep breaths Harry begins to move again. Draco is not going to calm on his own and if their bond continues to crash into his core like this, Harry is sure he will be bleeding out of his eyes soon; that was if the Omega did not dismember him first. It was good that the bond did not allow mates to kill one another, or Harry was sure Draco would have disposed of him months ago. It was just his luck to end up mated with the most temperamental person he has ever met. And he has met a lot of people in his nomadic life, but none like the man he shares a bond with.

“Draco.” He says once he open the door to what is obviously one of the family bedchambers in the Manor.

The blond stands by the window, staring at the last clinging ray of the sun as if nothing were the matter while the pain caused by the bond when he calls out to Draco momentarily blinds Harry. Harry moves into the room and garbs the Omega’s arm before apparating away and reappearing in the entry hall of the Black Manor. Their feet have not touched the ground before Draco pushes him away.

“Don’t touch me.” The blond says with venom dripping from every word.

“Draco—”

“Congratulations are in order!” Draco yells viciously at Harry. “Congratulations Harry you just acquired a new fuck toy, one whose parts work properly. Aren’t you lucky!” his voice echoes through the hall as he yells and the servants are probably listening but Draco does not seem to care.

“Draco I could not refuse.” Harry says looking at his Omega and feeling the bond pulse with magic every time his voice reaches the blond. A pain so intense shot through his head that had he not brace for it from past experience he would surely crumble to the floor.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have fought for him if there’d been a mating contest” Draco demands. “Tell you would not have fought for him!” he screams.

“You know I would have. It’s a good match Draco.” Harry tries to explain and in reaction Draco grabs the antique marble statue, a small figure of a nymph that reaches to his knee in height and is perched on an equally antique entry table that decorates the entrance, and throws it at the opposite wall. White marble explodes everywhere.

“A good match” he says in the silence that follows the crash. “I was a good match and now Blaise is a good match. Blaise is an even better match because he can get knocked up, isn’t he Harry!” Draco says looking at the Alpha in the eyes demanding a response.

Harry looks at the blond at the anger in the eyes, the hatred, the condemnation, the pain in his head increases with Draco’s anger and he explodes with it.

“What the fuck do you WANT from me Draco!” he says throwing his arms out wide.

“A fucking grant gives me custody of that kid! His father’s last will was that I protect them! You can’t have kids that is not my fault Draco and there is nothing I can do to change it…how many times have I tried to speak to you about it?!” Harry yells back, then he stops not wanting to bring up the subject that always makes Draco run away.

“You knew this day would come, you knew from the beginning. You knew some day there would be another mate, you knew this!” The Alpha continues more calmly looking at the eyes that contemplate him, eyes as cold as steel.

Draco could not deny that he knew. Of course he knew he is not an idiot. He had thought the day he met his rival came when he walked into the Weasley home and Ginerva Weasley run out of the kitchen to greet Harry with stars in her eyes. He had known that it would happen, he had not cared in the beginning, and then he had. HE CARED.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Blaise!?” He demands, his anger rising like a tide as he thinks of the agreement that was struck this day, the agreement that made his world and his mind break apart.

“Because I just received Nott’s papers, Blaise is not even coherent yet, and I didn’t think she would bring it up so soon! I wanted to give you time to recover completely, you haven’t been out of bed for more than two days, and I wanted Blaise awake enough to at least be informed but—”

“But she threw him at your feet and you are more than happy to have him.” Draco interrupts him, looking at Harry with so much disgust and repulsion the Alpha does not know what to do to fix things.

“What was I supposed to do Draco? Let her mate him to someone else? Who? Who that isn’t under Riddle’s thumb? Should we just return Blaise to the Notts? They won’t mate him to me. Everet will probably mate him and then? Aaron will not make it to a second birthday if that happens. So tell me Draco, tell me, what do you want me to do?”

“I want nothing. What I want doesn’t matter; it never matters.” Draco says not giving an inch. Harry looks incredibly at the Omega for a moment not believing what he is hearing, thinking the pain in his head is affecting his hearing.

“Yea, Draco your wants matter so little that I took a potion that could have killed me or left me without magic because of them. They matter so little that I have dealt with your attacks, and your anger for whatever thing I don’t even know you have a problem about and I’ve said nothing. I have accepted your silence when you asked me to even when as your mate I have every right to know what has been eating you alive these past few months. You forced me to watch you crumble and won’t let me do anything.”

Listening to Harry’s words, Draco suddenly finds himself in their bedchamber five months ago…

_He sat on the floor bleeding from the cuts in his knees and hands where shards from the broken mirror had logged themselves into his skin. What used to be a grand mirror was no more and the shards shone in the moonlight like diamonds and Draco sat there tainting the wooden flood red with his blood. He heard the door being thrown open but did not bother to look up._

_“Draco!” Harry said as he moved close to the figure huddled close to the window on the floor._

_Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he knelt close to the Omega and saw that the wounds were only superficial. With care, the Alpha took one of the hands that sat bleeding in Draco’s lap to examine the damage. Harry’s hand shoot slightly as he took Draco’s the bond had crushed into him with so much power that his body was still shaky. He was in a meeting arguing the same points with multiple nobles trying to convince them to support him. It was not easy to do so. Not fighting Lestrange had made him look weak and they were not willing to bet on a weakling rather than Lord Riddle who had more than proven his strength._

_The meeting would have been an unmitigated disaster if not for Theodore Nott whose presence had help the others trust Harry more. If someone as influential and powerful as Lord Nott saw something in this nobody then, maybe there was something to consider. But even with the help, Harry had not made much of an impression as he seemed distracted through most of the meeting. He was sure that anyone would have been distracted if they felt like someone was stubbing them in the back of the head like he was feeling. He knew it was coming from his bond, from Draco, so he made excuses and left early hoping that Theodore would manage to salvage the meeting without him. Harry was willing to allow Nott the place of leadership in this venture if that would help them further their campaign against Riddle._

_Now he knelt with his mate in their dark room and used his magic to remove the shards. Once that was done, he brought the wounded palm to his lips and licked the wounds until they healed. He repeated the process with the other hand and with his mate’s wounded knees. Once the wounds had been dealt with he carefully picked the small frame up and place him in his lap. Harry allowed his back to lean against the wall of the window as he sat on the floor with Draco cradled in his arms._

_“What happened” he asked after a while._

_“Nothing.” Draco said tiredly. Harry’s arms run over the very pronounced ribs of his naked mate. Draco had lost so much weight Harry was starting to think Remus would have to put him on nutrition potions._

_“Draco why can’t you just tell me. I’m your mate—”_

_“Harry you have taken everything.” Draco said hiding his face in the crook of Harry’s neck and breathing deeply. “Leave me my silence.” He asked in a small voice._

_“If you care even a little for me, leave me my silence.” So Harry did. He sat with his exhausted mate sleeping in his lap. As the sun rose and hit the glass shards the entire room seemed to shimmer with light, it was like the place was covered in diamonds._

He had tried other times but it was only worse each time he tried to speak with Draco about his weight loss, about his mood swings, about the possibility of Harry choosing a second mate, about children, about Riddle and what was happening, everything became a long list of off limits topics with Draco. Two times, when Harry tried to force the subject, Draco had left, going on his own to Eliria and not returning until his heat forced him to do so. The very thought, the memory of months of Draco feelings beating at him through the bond while the Omega refused to discuss them, months of being told to get another mate already by Sirius, of being told to control Draco by Lucius who thought Harry’s indulgence in Draco’s “whims” was bad for both of them, months of dealing with Narcissa’s recriminating stare from across ballrooms every time she saw how tired and wilted her son looked.

He can’t even fault them for blaming him for the situation. He is the Alpha, he should be able to protect his mate. But how do you protect someone from themselves, from their feelings and their insecurities. How do you protect them when they keep you away? Harry knows he should be the one to support Draco but sometimes, sometimes when Draco screamed and raged at him or cried on his shoulder, or locked himself in the study to keep away, those times Harry wishes he could lock himself away, at least lock his mind away from the bond and rest for a moment. That’s when the guilt comes to him. When he sees Draco suffering Harry wants to help but…but he also wants to give up because he is tired of trying to stop Draco from drowning in his emotions. Harry feels that in his attempts to pull Draco up all he has managed to do is to sink along with the Omega.

Harry feels so, so tired. He is tired of dealing with Draco because by Gods he loves the Omega but he is tired of being always kept at arms lengths, being punished for things he cannot control, of being resented for things he has not yet done. Harry knows Draco can’t control his feelings but Harry is reaching his own limit and still there is no escape for him. There is no leaving for a while with the bond punishing him constantly when Draco is upset. There is no way out, and Harry is tired of feeling trapped in his own body. 

He looks at the Omega and tries to make him understand. “Your wants matter so little that I have not sought a mate, even though I could have started the process months ago, even a year ago and no one would have reproached me! They matter so l—”

“Why didn’t you?! Why didn’t you get a second mate then Harry, waiting for one rich enough? Were you waiting for Blaise specifically—” Draco demands his anger surfacing again when he is reminded of Harry’s right to another mate, not just one, but two mates if he wants.

“I didn’t seek another mate because you don’t want me to!” Harry yells exasperated.

“Do you think I’m stupid Draco? Do you think I don’t see how you treat Ginny even though I have never shown any interest in her as a potential mate, even though I avoid her to give you peace of mind. Do you think I don’t know that you feel uncomfortable about it all? How many times have I tried to make you talk about this?! How many times have you thrown me out of our room rather than _talk_ with me” Harry demands.

Draco has no response. How many times had he screamed at Harry until Harry fell silent? He did not want to discuss anything like his inability to have children or Harry mating again. It’s too painful. Talking about either is like opening wounds on his body and rubbing them with salt. So he had pushed Harry away and fretted about the day when Harry chose a second mate. But Harry had known and because he knew he had not taken a second mate, even though it was his right.

“I don’t want you to mate him.” Draco said testing the limits of his influence over Harry. Would Harry comply? Would he really reject the power, money, and prestige, not to mention the possibility of having children for the sake of giving Draco this boon?

“What do you want to be done with him then?” Harry simply asks him.

Draco opens his mouth quickly to respond but nothing comes out.

_“So I’ll be your Alpha you see?” said a six year old Draco._

_“Hmm, are you sure though? Cause maybe I’ll be Alpha too and we’ll have to make new best friends…” a six year old Blaise responded a frown wrinkling his small nose. He obviously did not like the idea of a new best friend, he liked Draco._

_“No you won’t be Alpha silly.” Draco responded. “Father said Zabinis are never Alpha and that you will be Omega for sure sure!” Draco said as he remembered having heard his father say something like that to his mother the other day while they dinned._

_“Oh…alright! That’s good.” Blaise said smiling. “So we can be best friend for always and no one will separate us!” He finished convinced that Draco was right, Draco was always right after all._

_“Exactly, no one will separate us” Draco said smiling with satisfaction now that the issue was clarified and Blaise understood everything properly._

“What do you want to be done with him?” Harry repeated when Draco said nothing.

Harry had considered sending Blaise across the border, exiled but relatively safe. But that was not possible. If Aaron disappeared for long he would be declared dead and lose everything his father had left him. He would become destitute. And Blaise? He couldn’t send an unmated Omega with his child into another country and hope for the best. Blaise would not survive the kind of life that would condemn him to and Lady Zabini would never allow such a fate for her child. She would take her chances mating him to another Nott or to another candidate that would give Aaron to the Notts not caring at all for the boy.

Draco looks at Harry and feels the frustration building. Harry winces when the pounding in his head intensifies bringing the nausea to the forefront. Gods he did not want to end up on his knees throwing up in front of Draco. It was all he could do to keep his knees locked and his mouth shut swallowing the rising bile over and over.

“I…” What was he to say? Blaise and his son would not survive long in the hands of the next Nott heir. And if Blaise ended mated to one of Riddle’s men…they would give Aaron to the Notts and Everet will kill the boy if he gets his hands on him, Draco has no doubt about it.

“I don’ know” he says finally not able to ask for Blaise to be abandoned to his fate, yet also not able to accept him as Harry’s second mate.

“Draco” Harry says moving closer to the Omega slowly. “Draco you know nothing about what I feel would change with this mating. What I feel for you…” Harry says trying to make the other understand.

“That’s a lie. I know Blaise and I know you. He deserves to be loved and you will love him. I know you will.” Draco says moving away from Harry.

Draco has known Blaise all his life. Who would not love a person as loyal and willing to give of himself as Blaise was. Draco knew himself well enough to know that he was not half as good a person as his friend, not nearly as selfless, or compassionate. Once Harry mated with Blaise he would also see it. See that in comparison with the other Omega, Draco is selfish, self-centered, and even cruel. Draco knows he will lose Harry by increments and finally completely when Blaise gives him children to fill his life with happiness while Draco will be the forever bitter testing apple in the mist of their garden.          

Having nothing more to say to the Alpha, Draco turns his back on his mate and moves to the study. It had become his habit whenever he wanted to avoid Harry. Originally, he chose to lock himself in the study out of spite. The study was Harry’s space, Harry’s sanctuary. In a spike of anger after one of their arguments Draco had decided to steal this space from Harry. After that it became his habit whenever they argued to make his way to the study and if the argument was stressful enough to the decanter on the corner of the room that contained numerous crystal bottles. Fine spirits to chase away the bad mood.

Entering the room, Draco made his way directly to the corner. He did not bother to grab a crystal glass, just the bottle of whiskey, removing the stopper viciously and throwing it away he brings the bottle to his lips and drinks. The alcohol burns his throat as it moves down. His eyes close.

“No one will separate us” he whispers, remembering the words that had come out full of certainty when he was so young, looking at an equally young Blaise. Is this what those words meant, together as the mates of the same Alpha?...

“I…” can he ask that his friend be abandoned to his fate? Can he stand to lose Harry’s love to Blaise? If not Blaise it’ll be someone else, Ginny maybe, or some other mate.

Draco sits tiredly in one of the armchairs cradling the whiskey bottle.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter did not bother to knock this time, simply pushing the door of the dingy room open. There were only three men in the room this time around and as soon as they saw him two moved to leave the room.

“How’s it Malter?” Peter says with a large smile plastered on his face. The Beta seems to shrink a bit and looks nervously to the side his eyes never really meeting Peter’s. What’d you know, Peter thinks, one fuck and he’s all trained…Well that’s no fun.

Peter was not interested in any case in a repeat performance, Malter wasn’t exactly a looker.

“Did you do all as I asked?” Peter says as he throws himself into a chair abandoned by one of the men that had been accompanying Malter.

“Yea all done. A servant got the job done. Cost a bit but…you said coin was no problem so… all done proper. There be no mistake this time Mr. Aldon” Malter says and Peter hmms drumming his fingers on the table's sticky surface.

“Well you better not be disappointing me again now… I want this one dead dead no half assed business or we know what’ll happen now don’t we?” he says allowing his eyes to rove over Malter’s body and suppressing a snicker when he sees the Beta shrink a bit more into his chair. Damn at this point he feels like fucking him just for the fun of seeing him squirm like that.

“I brewed the strongest stuff out there not like last time a stronger brew. There ain’t be no saving the bastard, no saving. The’re ain’t no cure for the stuff.” Malter says with surety his eyes glimmering, he looks almost drunk with the taste of the kill.

“If you say so.” Peter says as he leaves his chair and moves closer to lean over the still sitting Beta. “The gent’s in town now, so I expect to read the obituary in a few days and if I don’t…” he doesn’t finish the sentence but his smile promises something much less pleasant than their last encounter.

“Half a teaspoon, that’s all he needs and he’s dead dead. No saving I promise.” Malter repeats.


	17. Computrescet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so p4091a asked for warnings when Peter would appear and in general warnings for the fic. So, you are warned: not happy moments to follow :P

“Well…” Remus says as he looks at the Black foyer which is littered with pebble sized pieces of black marble.

“Looks like it did when dear old mom threw me out when she found out I mated you” Sirius says also looking at the mess.

“The only thing missing is the hole she blew on that wall” Sirius says pointing at the wall to their right.

“Why would she have done that?” Remus asks. He never met any of Sirius’s family as they would never countenance to meet that common born _Beta_ their son had chosen to shack with.

“That was where I was standing but I moved pretty fast so the wall took the blow” Sirius says nonchalantly as they begin to move further into the Mansion.

“Harry!” Sirius roars when he reaches the staircase and Remus rolls his eyes. It is good that none of the servants now working in the mansion had met Sirius when he was younger because even with the glamour disguising his features, he’s personality practically screamed Black Family Madness.

“Is that really necessary…” Remus says before he sees Harry come down the stairs quickly.

“There you are pup.” Sirius says ignoring Remus as he spies Harry descending.

Remus looks up ready to greet his pup, but he stops when he spies the grim expression.

“Something the matter Harry?” he asks before the young Alpha has even managed to make it down the final step.

“Zabini challenged me and gave me permission to mate Blaise.” The young Alpha replies as greeting.

“Already?!” Remus says surprised the woman did not wait until her son was coherent and somewhat more stable. At least Remus expected her to demand to see Blaise first and then decide if she trusted them enough to grant Harry permission to mate the widowed Omega. They all knew this was the most probable and most beneficial conclusion for the situation for all involved but still…Theodore has not been dead two full weeks yet.

“She knew about the grant in Theodore’s will that names me Aaron’s guardian” Harry says clearly annoyed, even angry at the turn of events Remus thinks.

“Well that’s good news. You need another Omega and this one is as perfect as they get. Damn pretty, influential, rich, and proven fertile” Sirius says not seeing why Harry looks like someone told him to mate an Ogre.

“Draco was in the meeting when she proposed the mating” Harry says avoiding to look either of his adoptive parents in the eye.

“But you had spoken to him about it before that right?” Remus asks and feels dread rise when Harry refused to look at him.

“Harry you spoke to him…right?” Remus repeats.

“What you keep asking him for. Obviously he didn’t or he wouldn’t be looking like someone’s been knocking him about for the past two days. Was that Draco’s doing in the foyer? The kid certainly has the Black temper.” Sirius says with an indulgent smile and Remus glares at him. If Draco has a tenth of the Black temper Sirius inherited, Harry must feel like he got run over by a herd of Elephants, especially considering the problematic bond he shares with the Omega.

“How are you feeling” he asks the young Alpha as they move further into the home. He does not want to ask Harry about the damaged bond in front of Sirius, but he needs to know what are the effects of the problematic bond.

Harry refused to tell Sirius anything about the side-effects of the potion he consumed in an attempt to avoid the explosion that would be Sirius’s reaction to his pup being _permanently_ damaged. However, Remus is regretting allowing Harry to keep it secret from Sirius and Draco. First of all because Sirius was bound to find out and Remus would have to deal with the delayed explosion and most importantly because this secrecy Harry and Draco had entangled themselves in was not good for them. Harry keeping the damaged bond secret from Draco and Draco keeping from Harry having almost overdosed on fertility potions. Remus sighs in exasperation, sometimes being a healer and dealing with one’s family was just too difficult.

“Harry how are you?” He repeats when the young Alpha does not respond the first time.

“Harry?” He asks again but before he can say anything else, the Alpha has bolted at a dead run down the hall.

“Harry! What is it!?” Sirius yells immediately running after the other Alpha.

Remus runs after the two and makes it around the corner of the hallway in time to see Harry banging on the study’s doors yelling Draco’s name.

“Fuck!” the young Alpha yells before moving away from the door and sending a wave of magic at it that disintegrates the wood.

“Draco?” Harry says as he enters the office. He had been feeling constant shooting pain coming from the bond since Draco went into the study but suddenly there was a different feeling to what he had been receiving, the emotion more like dread rather than anger or sadness.

When he enters the room, Harry finds everything in place but the silence of the study makes the hair at the back of his neck rise. From the entrance he can see Draco’s legs as he sits on an armchair with its back to the door. The blond Omega does not move, does not turn around to look at who had attacked the door and invaded his sanctuary, and it’s wrong, Harry thinks as he rushes toward the Omega.

“Draco!” He says as he kneels before the apparently sleeping Omega and shakes him harshly. There is no response from the Omega and before Harry has the opportunity to try again, Remus is kneeling next to him.

“What’s happening?” Harry asks as Remus grabs Draco’s wrist to feel the Omega’s pulse, his other hand reaching to the relaxed face to lift an eyelid and examine the eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with him?!” Harry yells when he sees the whites of Draco’s eyes are tinted bright yellow.

As soon as he sees the yellow color of the eye, Remus begins to frantically look for Draco’s pulse feeling around the neck for the carotid artery to see if the Omega is still alive.

“Remus!” Harry yells desperately as he sees the actions of the healer, but he has no time to say more before strong arms wrap around him a haul him away from the two figures. Without realizing that it’s Sirius holding him, Harry begins to struggle. The bond has now stopped sending any feeling or pain his way and that more than anything makes him panic. The bond never stopped sending him _something_ even when Draco dreamed he would feel the slow hum of the damaged bond letting him know the blond was there, even unconscious he was there, but now there is nothing, as if Draco is not _there_ anymore.  

“Remus? Remus what's happening?! Is he breathing, is he—” Harry demands.

“Fuck!” Remus says as he quickly sits up next to the blond Omega. Without stopping for a single moment, the healer pushes two fingers into the Omega’s mouth stimulating the gag reflex and making the unconscious man vomit.

Harry had stopped yelling as he watches as Remus tilted Draco forward on the armchair before the blond began to vomit. Draco’s eye don't even flutter as his body convulses.

“What’s happening to him?!” Harry says and doubles his struggles but Sirius won’t let him go.

“Poison” Remus says as he ignores the puddle of vomit and looks at Draco’s eyes again only to find them as yellow as before. “It’s already in his bloodstream…” he says, his face grim.

“Sirius, I’m going to need my bag now! I left it on the table in the kitchen” Remus orders.

“I’ll get it but—” Sirius tries as he struggles with Harry.

“Harry.” Remus yells loudly enough to draw the young Alpha’s attention. “He’s not dead yet but he is dying. I need you to stop this panic, please pup, I know it’s hard. I need to know what caused this.” Remus says and Harry takes deep breaths over and over trying push everything back in and do what must be done, as he did all those years ago when Sirius told him to stop crying because they couldn’t make any noise if they wanted to make it out of the Potter grounds alive. Harry had stopped crying and never cried again since.

As soon as Harry stops struggling, Sirius releases him and dissaparates.

“What should I do?” Harry asks his eyes still glued to the figure on the armchair.

“I need to know if Draco might have done this to himself and what he might have used—?”

“No. No, he did not do this to himself.” Harry says adamantly.

“Harry, I know you don’t want to think that he might but—”

“He didn’t do this to himself! He was angry yes, and he has been…unhappy for a very long time but he is not…he is not…he would never give up Remus…never.”

Remus says nothing but nods in acceptance.

“In that case seal the mansion and only let our people in. Someone poisoned him and they might be one of the servants or whoever got in might still be here.”

At this Harry nods and closes his eyes concentrating on the Mansion and the grounds expanding his magic to drape over everything like a giant net and then tightening it until the only things that could pass through are air particles and those individuals Harry would allow. When he opens his eyes, it is to see Remus harrying out the door with Draco in his arms and he quickly moves to follow the Beta who is practically running down the halls. As the group begin to climb the stairs up to the master bedroom, Sirius reappears with Remus’s bag in hand and follows them.

They quickly make it to the room and Remus sets Draco on the bed and Sirius passes him the bag. The two Alphas watch as the Beta works, crystals surround the Omega, Remus begins to chant and his magic begins to visibly swirl around the unconscious body in the familiar way of healing magic.

“What’s wrong with him” Sirius asks Harry as they watch the Beta work.

“Poison” says Harry in way that suggests the one responsible will pay.

Three hours later, Remus is sitting on the side of the bed by Draco’s side exhaustion clearly visible on his face as he looks at the Omega.

“Is he going to be alright?” Harry asks worried as he sees that Draco has yet to respond to anything done to him.

“I don’t know. Whatever was he took I can’t flush it out of his system. At this point he is still having major organ failure…” Remus says looking at the Omega with eyes set with determination.

“Remus—” Harry begins

“I need to know what he took. For now I have stopped his metabolism and body functions as much as possible to slow the poison down, but we don’t have too much time and poisons is not my area… I need to get whatever he ate or drunk…” without saying more, Remus moves away from the bed and out the room until he finds the morning room where Draco often sat to write letters. Remus grabs some parchment and quickly scribbles on it and turns to find Sirius by the door looking at him.

“Take this to Lucius Malfoy” Remus says passing him the note. Sirius nods and reinforces his glamour. He already has a good idea what Remus is doing and truth be told this is the only circumstance in which he would stand _that_ man’s presence, he hated to even think it but there was no other way.

As soon as Sirius is gone, Remus returns to the bedroom and begins to reinforce the magic keeping Draco’s body in stasis. They could not keep the Omega in this state for long or his heart might not restart when the spell is removed, already Remus was taking a risk as it is a high probability that the spell he has cast will kill the Omega, but without the spell Draco will die for sure, so Remus reinforces it while looking at the frail body of the Omega. Hold on Draco, he thinks as he waits with Harry a shadow at his back with eyes that can only see the figure lying so vulnerable on the grand bed.

Remus turns to look at his adoptive son and wishes he could just take him away from all of this, but being unable to protect Harry from life has been Remus’s greatest failure all his life. Always being there to witness the pain of his pup and never being able to fix it. But, this time it will be different, he promises himself as he moves out of the room to make his way downstairs again. Draco will not die, Remus will not allow it; he will not allow another wound on Harry’s soul. Not this time, this time he will not.

Remus makes his way to the office and examines the space finding the bottle that lay next to the armchair Draco had been sitting in. The bottle was almost empty, most of the liquid having spilled out when Draco dropped the bottle. The puddle of alcohol has mixed with the vomit on the floor, but Remus does not pay attention to that, he picks the bottle and sees that there is enough still inside to use to examine what type of poison it was and what antidote would cure the blond Omega. He looks to the side of the room where other bottles sit inoffensively and uses his magic to collect them all. He is making his way back upstairs when Sirius reapparates in the hallway of the bedroom with Narcissa Malfoy who quickly runs into the room. A moment later, Remus hears the woman’s wails. Sirius looks on from the entrance of the room as his cousin cries by the side of her unconscious son, calling his name over and over while Harry stands at the other side of the bed frozen.

“Everything done?” Remus asks as he moves into the room, the bottles of liquor following him. Sirius moves in with him and conjures a table for Remus to place the bottles across from the bed where the Omega lies.

“Lucius is taking care of it. He’ll be here soon” Sirius says as he stares at Narcissa, the woman must have lost all control seeing her son like this, otherwise she would never have made such a display of emotion when there were witnesses about.

“This is what he was drinking, we need to determine what it was tainted with—” Remus begins only to be interrupted by Lucius rushing into the room and to the side of his Omega and their son.

The other person enters more slowly and stops a moment to give a greeting no one returns “Good evening” says Severus Snape.

Sirius growls slightly at the sight of the man, but Severus does not even bother to acknowledge his presence as he passes him to approach Remus.

“What is the situation?” He asks the other healer.

“Poison, can’t flash it out of his system. I’ve put him on stasis. Eyes tainted yellow. Liver, kidney, and lung failure combined. This is what he was drinking before collapsing…I have not tested it yet to see what type of poison it was.” Remus says indicating the bottle he is holding.

“You say the poison didn’t flush out? Not even partially?” Severus asks as his long fingers grab the whiskey bottle from Remus’s hands. The second healer pulls up the bag he carries with his other hand and settles it on the table Sirius conjured, pulling out of it several vials, he quickly pours a bit of the whiskey remaining in the bottle into each vial.

“It didn’t flush at all. I made him vomit but whatever it is was already in his bloodstream.” Remus continues as he watches Severus pull out numerous substances from his bag readying to begin testing the liquid and figure out which poison it is.

“How long since he took the dose?” Severus asks him and Remus turns to Harry.

“Harry how long since he went into the study?” He asks the young Alpha.

It takes Harry a moment to concentrate on anything other than the bed. A moment in which he blinks at Remus before saying “About ten minutes before you and Sirius got here.”

“That would be…He must have consumed the poison at the latest three and a half hours ago” Remus tells Severus after calculating how long it’s been since they found Draco and Remus began treating him.

“That’s a long time, you should have called me earlier” is all the reply Severus gives the other healer and hears more growling from the other side where Sirius stands but everyone ignores it.

Severus watches as the liquid in each vial has a different reaction depending on what substance he pours into each. Some change colors, some froth and bubble, and others have no reaction at all.

Severus quickly catalogs the results in his mind and his encyclopedic memory starts rejecting some poison groups and discarding one or another until he concludes with a short list of four poisons. His magic pulses toward the vials and cleans them out so that he can pour the remaining whiskey in each to conduct a second testing to figure out which of the four toxic brews Draco had consumed.

The second tests provides varied result as well, each vial reacting differently, but Severus eyes narrow on the second vial, the liquid in it turning from the amber color of the whiskey into a bright yellow with red clots floating in it.

“Well…” he says taking the vial in hand to bring it closer to his face.

“Is that…” Remus says frowning at the vial.

This is the reason he needed Severus. It took the man less than ten minutes to figure out what type of poison Draco had ingested when it would have taken Remus and most other doctors days of testing and retesting. But not Severus, he had made it his life’s work to study poisons and antidotes no one would have figured out what tests to start with as quickly as he did. However, none of that mattered because Remus recognized the liquid in the vial Severus was holding from his time as a healer apprentice. Over twenty years ago that was the only time he had seen that substance, and he still remembers healer Aparton’s words as he had been showing a young Remus the substance.

 _“_ _Computrescet_ _. This is certain death in liquid form Remus. Certain death!” the old man said looking at his apprentice before allowing the young man to take the vial and look at the yellow liquid with the red clots floating in it._  

“That’s _Computrescet_ ” he says now looking with horror at what Severus holds in one hand. Severus lifts an eyebrow as he looks at the other healer.

“Not many know what this is, most healers never even see it their entire careers” he says looking at the shorter healer with a slight expression of being impressed. 

“I saw it once…” is all Remus says before swallowing. No matter how many years go by losing a patient was hard and it being a member of your own pack, your pup’s mate…

Remus cannot turn to look at Harry as he continues his discussion with Severus. 

“There is no antidote for _Computrescet_ ” he whispers eyes still glued to the hateful vial.  

“Correct, there is no antidote” Severus says as he puts the vial back down on the table. 

“What?” Harry says, his eyes finally moving from the bed to the two healers standing by the stable with vials strewn about on it.

“What is it, what’s the antidote?” Harry asks and Lucius turns expectantly towards the healers as well, one of his hands lying on Narcissa’s shoulder in a show of comfort.  Remus does not know how to say it, how to destroy the hope he sees in Harry eyes, how to tell his son he has failed him again. But he shouldn’t have worried about how to deliver the news with Severus in the room. 

“There is no cure” Severus simply says to everyone.


	18. Secorax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, again thank you for the comments. Just to clarify something that drew my attention, the poison was meant for Harry not Draco or Blaise. Now on with the chapter :)

The explosion throws Remus to the side while it hits Severus directly throwing him across the room. Before the stunted healer can rise from the floor, Harry’s massive wolf lands on him with the obvious intent to rip his throat out. Only Sirius's and Lucius's quick reactions stop the younger Alpha from committing murder.

“Calm down Harry!” Sirius yells but manages little. Harry’s wolf has taken over and whatever awareness Harry might have is lost in the beast's rage at what it perceives as a threat to its Omega.  

“Harry!” Remus yells as he lifts from where he fell when the young Alpha released a burst of magic toward Severus.

“Harry! Please…stop” Remus tries but can already see Harry calming as Sirius’s magic surrounds him. Harry had become Sirius surrogate child after the death of his own family and thus became a member of Sirius’s pack.

As pack leader Sirius was the only one capable of forcing the enraged wolf to transform back into a human. Remus flinches as he hears the bones break and reform, the pain of a forced transformation something all cringe to see. At the end of the painful process, Sirius sits on the floor holding the shaking body of the naked Alpha.

 “I’m sorry pup…I’m sorry” Sirius says over and over in the quiet that follows.  

“Well…” Severus says as he stands up as if he had simply slipped and not as if he had been almost murdered by the deranged mate of his patient. Such reactions did not faze him anymore, he had been a healer long enough to see more than one mate lose all sense when told news like what he just delivered. True, this was the first time the grieving mate had gone for his throat, but things like this keep his profession interesting.

“Dra…Draco will…not..” Harry whizzes looking up at the healer that is now standing before him.  

“He—will not—die.” Harry tries again as he gathers air to finish the sentence. As the young Alpha begins to stand, Sirius sends a pulse of magic toward him to dress him.

“Of course he will not die” Lucius says, having returned to the side of the bed from where Narcissa had not moved once, despite the commotion she just stroked the hair at her son’s forehead while entwining the fingers of her other hand with Lucius’s. At his words she squeezes his hand. She knows Lucius won’t allow their baby to die. She has lived most of her life by the side of her Alpha and he had yet to fail her, he would not fail her in this, not this that was more important than everything else ever was or could be. This is their baby boy, their child and this _will not happen._

Narcissa closes her eyes and prays, prays that for once her son would not suffer. She often wonders if his suffering is their fault or a punishment for all that they did during the Clash, but if someone should suffer it should be Lucius and herself not their boy. “Please not my boy” escapes her lips in a whisper.  

“As I said, there is no antidote for _Computrescet_ ” Severus replies to the powerful noble as if he were a child lacking in understanding.  

“This poison has two components that make it as deadly as it is. First it induces organ failure: lungs, kidney, and liver. Healers in the past have tried to counter this by slowing the metabolism and organ function of the victim to give them more time to find or develop an antidote,” at this he points to Draco who as Remus had indicated was currently in stasis in order to prevent further damage to his organs.

“Which, is the time when the second component of the poison is activated.” Severus explains to the room as he moves back towards the table and picks up the vial with the poison in it.

 “It takes between five and six hours for the poison’s second property to begin its work once the body is put in stasis. The reason it is called _Computrescet_ ”

“Putrify…” Remus translates automatically as he looks towards Draco horrified at the implications.

“Indeed. Once the organs are put in stasis the poison attacks them and causes them to putrify which obviously kills the person. Once this process has started there is no reversing it” Severus continues ignoring the looks of absolute horror in everyone’s face.

Narcissa’s mouth opens as if she is trying to say something before she collapses next to her son her sobs even more heart wrenching than before.   

“But if we move him out of stasis…” Remus begins

“The organ failure will accelerate and kill him” Severus finishes.

“There must be _something_ ” Harry says looking at the healer begging him to give them some way out of this.

“There is a method that has been met with a small amount of success” Severus says and everyone waits with bated breath. 

“Well what is it and what are you waiting for?” Sirius growls at the healer. “He’s been in stasis about three hours now. In about two the putrifying will start; you want to let him die or something?!” He demands of the healer.

“Mr…” Severus says with a sneer but does not use a name to address him which makes it perfectly clear that despite the glamours covering Sirius’s face he has recognized him.

“The potential method is as deadly as the poison that currently runs through his veins and it is important that I have the consent of the family and that they understand that four in five patients on whom this process has been attempted died as a result of the treatment rather than the original poison administered to them.” He explains.

“What is it?” Harry asks.

“We would need to administer doses of _Secorax_ ” Severus tells the younger Alpha.

“ _Secorax_!” Remus says looking at Severus.“That will kill him as soon as it enters the bloodstream.”

“Which is why it cannot be administered to his body and must be administered to his blood in isolation” Severus responds.

“To his—you mean a hemodialysis?” Remus asks.

“Indeed, we will remove the blood from the body, once out and before the blood enters the body we must administer _Secorax_ and remove the two poisonous residue after they interact with each other. The ingredients in _Secorax_ are not an antidote” Severus explains to the group in the room.

“ _Secorax_ is a very potent poison” Remus adds to the explanation.

“But it reacts aggressively with almost all other poisonous substances” Severus continues. “The method requires that we remove the blood from the patient administer the _Secorax_ and when the _Secorax_ and _Computrescet_ nullify one another, the remains can be safely removed from the bloodstream before the blood enters the body again.”

“How will you keep him alive while you remove the blood?” Harry asks the two healers.

“We will not keep him alive” Severus says. “We will keep the body in stasis but for all intents and purposes the patient will be medically dead while this process takes place. The idea is to resuscitate him after the process is complete” He finishes and for a moment there is a flush of pity in his eyes as he looks at the terrified Alpha. There are no guarantees that resuscitation will work, in fact chances are that it will not.

“I have never heard of a successful hemodialysis” Remus says looking at Severus.

“That is because it’s rare when they've succeeded. I myself have never performed one successfully” he admits to everyone.

“Do you know anyone that has?” Harry asks him.

“Yes, he was my mentor but he passed away over six years ago. I assisted him in performing two successful procedures and a number of unsuccessful attempts as well” Severus tells him.

“I…” Harry says looking at the bed.

“This is the only possibility?” He asks Remus.

“I’m afraid I have no other solution to offer Harry, I’m sorry.” Remus says with feeling.

“Then…Healer please do…do what you must and please…” Harry says looking at Severus.

“Please…” he says again and Severus nods in understanding.

 

“I will need two assistants” Severus says as he moves to prepare for the procedure.

“Unfortunately I do not have an apprentice and— no you cannot assist me Lord Black I need individuals will medical experience—”

“I have an apprentice, I will send for her immediately” Remus says and looks to Sirius who immediately disappears.

“Good” is all Severus says before ordering everyone to the side away from the bed as he and Remus get to work reviewing what type of incantations are needed to develop the funneling magic through which Draco’s blood will travel through when removed from his body.

As Remus experiments with developing the funnel, Severus disappears and returns a few minutes later as Sirius reappears with Remus’s healer apprentice, Ginny Weasley in tow.

Severus puts on the side table a vial containing a bluish liquid that in some lights appears like a shimmering violet.

“What do you need?” Ginny asks Remus quietly but Severus responds by calling her to his side and explaining the procedure in much more complex terms than he had explained to the distraught family. Ginny would nod every few minutes and ask questions as he explained before moving toward the bed to review the necessary incantations with Remus.  

They have very little time to practice the process as the stasis has already lasted almost four hours and the putrification can begin sooner than expected. So after a brief practice, the healers and their apprentice take positions around the bed. Severus on the left side of Draco’s unconscious form will be the one to begin the process by funneling the blood out of the body and administering the doses of _Secorax_ at different intervals so as not to administer more than absolutely necessary. Remus is responsible for removing the byproduct of the two poisons once they have cancelled each other and Ginny is responsible for funneling the blood back into the unconscious body, while all of them have placed charms on the Omega that will monitor the body as the process continues.

When the healers are ready Narcissa hides her face behind trembling hands and her tearful whimpers are the only sounds heard in the room as everyone waits and hopes and remembers all the times when they had waited and hoped in the past only to be disappointed. The gods were rarely just and never kind to many of them but even so, in this moment, at this point, like beggars going back to a house from where they had been thrown out, they think of the gods and beg them silently as they watch. Beg that this time they show some mercy, that this time…please. ‘ _Please_ ’ the only word that like a prayer they all whisper in their souls.

Harry feels his lungs halt when the incision is made on Draco carotid artery. He feels his limbs freeze as the blood is pulled up by the magic almost like a snake dancing to the tune of an entrancing flute moving upwards until it passes close to Severus long fingers and the healer administers the first dose of the poison that is supposed to save Draco. He feels the slightest of pulls at his bond, as if the connection strains under the pressure on Draco’s body as he looses blood. Harry feels like everything, everyone he ever lost he is about to lose again in this moment and his wolf wants to spring forth and fight all of them. He wants to howl until his mate is released and destroy whoever is trying to take his anchor from him. All of them that are trying to steal someone precious from him again must be killed says the wolf, but Harry does not allow it. The animal does not understand that this is done to save its mate. It only understands that its mate is moving further and further away and a pain so deep, so profoundly sharp shoots through the bond that Harry cannot keep to his feet. He collapses as breathing becomes impossible. His mate, his _mate_ is dying!

A moan of wrenched pain escapes the young Alpha as the bond sears into his bones the sense of despair and emptiness like nothing he had felt before. Sirius lifts him up a bit, pulling him into his arms trying to conform the distraught Alpha as they all witness the procedure, but Harry cannot feel the hands on him anymore. He feels nothing but a sense of terrible loneliness as if a pit of nothing has taken everything from him, leaving him hallow, only echoes of what was remaining making the absence all the more painful.

“He is dead” Ginny says in a crisp tone as she observes the vitals as the procedure continues. The two healers continue their individual actions without looking up at her declaration and soon she continues to funnel the blood back into the body with no more comments on the matter.


	19. Betting Against Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone, thank you for all your comments. Here we have a slightly longer chapter. Hope you enjoy the developments. Oh! Peter warning? :/

The sitting area is elegant and airy and always a surprise to the few allowed in this room or any other part of the Riddle Manor. Airy pastels with light blue highlights, light curtains that dance in the breeze, the morning light flooding in making the sitting area seem like a piece of stolen spring sky. Pieces of priceless art decorate the walls sporadically, depicting beautiful scenes of summer days, the sea blinking up to the sky. Another still showcasing a mother her face downturned as she stares at the naked infant in her arms with a slight smile decorating her lips. Light seems to float into the space, yet there is coolness in the air, a crispness that makes the space almost pure in its detached existence somewhere beyond the grime and dirt of the common life. It’s simply not what the average plebeian thinks the Mansion of Lord Riddle would look like. How could such severe a man who dresses always in black prefer light blue instead and drink tea from dainty china? The Riddle Manor, to those lucky enough to be granted permission to visit it, looked more like the grand House of a Lord with a boisterous family and idealistic beliefs about the world rather than the house of a Lord never mated who inspired nightmares or at least strong uneasiness to most.

Tom Riddle had considered maintaining the look of the Mansion when he inherited it from his father. Back then it had the appropriate foreboding ambiance, stale air, dark rooms, dark paneling everywhere. Truly the home of an implacable Noble Lord as his father had undoubtedly been. There were things that he had learned from his father: about power, prestige, and fear that have served him well. But the previous Lord Riddle was too short sighted, his vision always chained by tradition and hierarchy that never allowed him to gain the influence or prestige he really wanted. In that Tom was completely different. While his father spent his life licking the ground their much more powerful neighbors to the east the Dumbledore family tread, Tom saw no reason to bow low for those who were so clearly weaker than him. The Law of the Wolf was, is, and always shall be the strongest is Alpha and Alpha shall lead. Why create a society that disregarded the most basic rule of people's nature? For the sake of tradition, according to the late Riddle Lord. While tradition had immobilized his father, Tom had decided to do away with it and that policy worked better than most had expected. Today, he has few regrets, most too insignificant to name. The only that burns is the absence of his lover that today confronts him, but this sense of loss will pass, he is sure. But truly had he stopped Lestrange from participating in the attack, this turn of events would never have happened he thinks releasing a melancholy sigh.

Tom looks around his sitting area and allows himself to enjoy the beauty that surrounds him, allows it to lift his spirits. Tom Riddle was not his father and had no intention to live his life as the man had. He accepted the trappings necessary when in public but in the privacy of his home he would not allow the past to chain him. So, he created the most beautiful space he could and his fortune can buy a lot of beauty. Despite this, today even the airy beauty that surrounds him does not take away the emptiness, the lack that his lover’s absence has left behind. He had known that approving the attack on the Nott mansion was a risky idea and had not much liked it, but had he known that the idiot Lestrange would have bought his way into the plan in an attempt to regain some of his reputation after the disgrace he suffered in the arena at the hands of the Omega, he would have ordered the idiot away from the Nott mansion.

“Too late” he whispers to no one as he sits in his armchair staring at the fire that burns in the hearth across from him.  

Lestrange is dead and Bella…despite her lack of love for the man, is still suffering under the strain of the dissolution of her mate-bond. It matters little now, in any case, he could never have her back even after she recovers. Now, unmated as she is if their affair continues they would create a bond between them and that is something he cannot, _will not ever_ do. He has taken the decision to end their liaison and it is final. This does not mean that losing the person that had been his single companion, friend, and lover for more than a decade is easy; indeed, it is painfully difficult. So, he sits in his empty Mansion as if waiting for her to come when he knows that if she does come, he will have to send her away.

His eyes shut out the image of the fire as he contemplates turning Bella away when she finally recovers from the shock and seeks him out. For a moment he breaths in the pain as the scene almost unfolds in his mind. His eyes open as he considers that she might not come at all. She knows him as no other ever has, more than likely she will know that the death of her mate means the end of their affair, and if so…she is too proud to beg for something she knows she cannot have.

“She won’t come” he concludes with a certainty that breaks his heart. Whether he wants to admit it to himself or not, he had hope for at least one final meeting between them, but she will not want it if it is only to say goodbye, and it cannot be anything more, ever again. 

“Have you found the little Nott heir?” he asks the man who he senses enter his sanctuary without turning to look at him.

“Nuh milord.” Peter says as he slouches relaxed by the door.

“No.” Riddle corrects. “Is collecting a one year old pup beyond you, Mr. Pettigrew?”

“It’s not the boy that’s the problem, it’s the birth-bitch that’s the problem. He’s running and probably using quite a bit of magic to hide” Peter replies quickly, slightly offended with the notion that he cannot locate a toddler.

“Mr. Everet Nott will not have access to the Nott estate, accounts, army, and magic until that child is disposed of…do you understand the gravity of this?” Riddle asks in a contemplative tone that makes the hairs over Peter’s beefy arms rise.

“Of course milord. Of course, but Everet Nott will wait, ain’t like he has a choice in the matter.” Peter reassures his employer.

“Am I also to wait, Mr. Pettigrew?” Riddle asks finally turning his head to look at the man standing in his doorway.

Peter quickly shakes his head no. “I’ll find the runt.” He says and bows before turning to leave.

“The other matter?” Riddle almost whispers as he turns to contemplate the fire again. Peter turns back to the door quickly.

“The poison master got it all in order; it’s a matter of time before the Lord Black man takes his dose and drops dead” Peter replies more confidently when speaking about something that is going according to plan.

Usually he is not this uneasy around his lord but he knows the man is suffering through the loss of his Noble whore. Peter almost growls loudly as he thinks back to the attack on the Nott mansion. How was he supposed to know that the Lestrange idiot would go off on his own and end up dead? It wasn’t like he had time to babysit the idiot and lead an attack at the same time; his lord has no reason to be displeased with him for it. But displeased he is and it’s better not to rock the boat, so Peter tries to be as polite as he can be, which is very polite when his life is at stake.

“I want to be informed immediately when Black’s death is announced and when that happens send Lucius a summon” Riddle orders in the same pensive tone still contemplating the fire and remembering how it highlighted Bella’s hair when she sat on the armchair next to his own, a smile on her lips, and a glass of wine twirling in her elegant fingers.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness such as this had never before laid over him, in him, swallowing all light, all sensation, all memory and with memory all pain…and all happiness…and all hopes…and all despair. Such a curious thing this darkness that is so hollow of everything, that does not echo and does not end, that is not cold but never warm, that is lonely even if there is no memory of there ever being a _not alone_ time. For a moment, he wonders how he even knows the word. How does he know ‘alone’ why does he know that word?…

All he knows truly is this darkness that is not black or white, it has no color, or flavor, or feeling…but ‘alone’ is a feeling… The darkness lies heavy over his being as if gravity has been inverted and all the heaviness of the world lies over him but does not crash him. Slowly but surely the darkness changes, becomes more penetrable, it turns black, and then there is a line of hazy gray that slowly turns blinding white as light invades. His eyelids lift slowly still clinging to the vestiges of death that had almost consumed him whole.

For a moment his eyes hurt and he almost feels his pupils contract trying to bring the space around him into focus. When his vision clears the first thing he notices are specks, little specks of dust flying around him everywhere in the sunny room. After his eyes focus, he almost feels every one of his senses awakening, first his nose is assaulted by the bitter smell of medicinal herbs, sweat, dust, and a smell that settles inside him and keeps him from moving…everything is fine his wolf whispers, _mate is here_ and all is fine. Finally, his ears seem to pop! and he can hear slight snores coming from somewhere to his right…and his left…For a moment he is confused but his nosed solves the mystery by filling him with the scent of warmth only one person holds and he recognizes as it has been a part of him since his infancy. With great effort, Draco moves his head slightly towards the right to see Narcissa Malfoy sleeping in an armchair that had been pulled closer to the bed at some point. His mother usually looked so regal but in the large armchair she looks like a small child…so delicate and tired, dark bruises marring the skin around her shut eyes.

The effort to turn to look her way had tired him but he is determined to turn to his left also and see the other person that he knows lies next to him. His head turns slowly and some of his hair slips along his forehead obscuring his vision for an instant but only momentarily before a tan hand carefully removes the locks carefully laying them behind Draco’s ear.

Harry says nothing as he looks into the grey eyes he had for some time thought he’d never see again. The eyes examine him as well, the lips tremble slightly as if Draco is trying to open them and say something but he gives up the attempt when Harry’s fingers run over his cheek, feather light. With a deep breath, almost a sigh, the grey eyes hide away from the world again and the blond sleeps a lighter sleep this time. Harry watches as his mate falls into a recovering sleep; the blond has a smile on his face this time and it makes Harry want to cry, but he doesn’t, instead he falls asleep as well and in his sleep he also smiles.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time Draco awakens its easier until his eyes open to Ginny Weasley hovering over him.

“Wocher Draco!” She says with a smile all teeth.

“Uh—” he tries but his throat is completely perched and he can say nothing as he chokes and coughs weakly for a moment.

“No, no. Don’t try any of that now.” She says as she moves to lift him to a reclining position on the bed as opposed to lying on his back. After situating him, she sits on the side of the bed and grabs a short glass and a pitcher from the side table. Once the glass is full she places it gently against his perched lips.

“Drink some, getting hydrated now is important, it’ll flush out whatever by product might still be clinging in there” she tells him, and although he has no idea what she is talking about and well it’s _her_ giving him water, well he is dying for something to soothe his dry throat so he makes an effort to suck some water from the glass. He doesn’t even try to lift his arms to grab the glass, he knows that would be futile as both arms feel more like two tree trunks at his sides rather than his two functioning limbs.  

Once he drinks as much as he can he moves his head to the side to signal he wants her to move the glass away. She does so and quickly moves to examine him.

“How do you feel? Any muscle pain?” She asks as she removes the sheets and pulls one leg up and bends it at the knee making him wince at the sharp pain the movement causes.

“I see, well that’s normal and you can feel them so that’s good” she says putting the leg back on the bed.

“Wha…what are you doing?”

“Exeamin—”

“Here?” he interrupts her. “Why are you here?” he repeats as his voice finally begins to work properly.

“What do you remember?” she asks him in return.

“Harry…” he does not finish the sentence as he remembers the scene of Estel Zabini blessing Harry’s upcoming mating with Blaise.

“That’s all you remember? Harry? You are a sad creature…” she says shaking her head pitifully.

Draco’s eyes immediately narrow at the words. “What do you know to talk about!” he tries.

“I know about your obsession but no.” she lifts a hand when he tries to interrupt her. “We are not going to talk about your mate issues, and I will not help you upset yourself. I need you to keep calm and drink water so you’ll pee what’s left of the poison by-products from your system” she finishes refilling the glass and sitting next to Draco again lifting the glass close to his lips.

“Poison?” he asks her ignoring everything else she said.

“You probably don’t remember but you were poisoned, seriously poisoned and you had to go through a very strenuous procedure, now drink” she says pushing the glass closer to his lips.

“Where is Harry?” he asks instead of drinking, petulantly enjoying not doing as she tells him.

“Drink” she says with a do what I say and I might give you what you want air.

Draco considers her over the glass for a moment before he leans in to drink.

“How long have I been unconscious for? And where is Harry?” he asks again as soon he swallows a few sips.

“You were poisoned last Wednesday so it’s been six days and Harry is in Eliria” she tells him.

“Eliria?” He replies. “Is he…Are Blaise and he—”

“Not yet. Harry was in no condition to go through a mating and wouldn’t leave here before you woke up the day before yesterday.”

“I don’t remember waking up” he says confused.

“You’ve been waking up and falling back asleep the pass few days, coming and going.” She tells him but he ignores her looking away.

“He wouldn’t leave until he was sure you were perfectly safe. He only left twenty minutes ago and should be back any moment” she tells him gently.

“He is going to mate Blaise” Draco responds.

“Why is this so hard for you?” she asks confused. “Blaise is your closest friend. I thought that at least being him instead of me would make you happier” at her works he quickly turns to her looking surprised.

“What? You think I can’t tell when someone doesn’t like me? So you don’t want me as Harry’s mate…fine. But you don’t want anyone as his mate do you?” she says conversationally.

“Would you enjoy the idea of sharing your mate?” he asks her, his resentment at the situation obvious in his voice.

“I thought that was pretty much the norm in your circles” she says as she sits more comfortably on the bed. “It’s not as common in my social circle, most merchant Alphas can’t keep multiple Omegas and feed all those kids, but I’ve never met or heard of a high society Alpha, with the exception of your father, that doesn’t have at least two mates.”

“Riddle has no mates at all” Draco replies and Ginny snorts inelegantly at that.

“You want to tell Harry to follow Riddle’s life examples?” she asks him with humor.

“Don’t be an idiot” he says reclining more comfortably into his pillows.

“Honestly though, why so bothered about Harry mating a second time? And to someone you like?”

“What would you feel if your mate wanted to mate another?”

“It’s not like that with Harry, he has to mate Blaise; it’s a good match and all. Plus what do you care?”

“Why would I not care the man I love wants to mate someone else? Why is it so hard to believe that I don’t want him to take another mate! Why can’t I be enough?! Why am I not enough!” He screams into the suddenly awkward silence of the room.

“Didn’t know your feelings about Harry run that deep…I always thought you didn’t want him to mate me cause I’m merchant class and you didn’t want to mix with us commoners” she says with a slight smile. He snorts at that and looks toward the door as if waiting for someone to enter the room.

“When is the mating planned for?” He asks her.

“I haven’t heard anything about it” she replies and gets up. “Keep drinking water. I’ll see about getting you some food too, you should eat” she says before she moves toward the door.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry sits in the chair next to Blaise who is holding Aaron and feels actually glad for the headache that is growing into a persistent pain at the side of his left temple. Draco’s is definitely wake and angry. He tries to ignore the discomfort and concentrate on the Omega sitting in the kitchen chair across from him silently contemplating the sleeping child in his arms.

“How is Draco?” Blaise asks his voice low.

“He is…Sirius told me you’ve been up the last few days” Harry says looking at the sleeping boy in the Omega’s arms.

“Aaron was crying” Blaise replies, his fingers running through the child’s hair. “Sirius says you met with mother and she has given you her blessing and…that…that Theo” he stops for a moment taking a deep breath, his shoulders straighten as if he is bracing himself "Theo granted you custody of Aaron until his maturity. I suppose we are to mate then?” he says looking at Harry expectantly.

“Yes, we are.” Harry replies.

“Draco won’t like that.” Blaise says. “He never shared well” he concludes as his fingers continue to play with his son’s hair.

“He wasn't happy. I think not knowing it was coming also didn't help” Harry says, remembering the discussion before Draco was poisoned.

The room is silent for a moment while the two adults lose themselves in their own thoughts.

Blaise's lowers his head until his lips touch the soft hair on his son's forehead. “I don’t want to mate you.” He whispers after a few minutes.

“Blaise…” Harry starts.

“I will mate you. Aaron needs that security, but I don’t want to.” Blaise says, his tired eyes bearing into the Alpha’s.

“For what is worth, I am truly, truly sorry for your loss” Harry responds.

“It’s worth very little” Blaise says, concentrating on the child in his arms.

“Blaise what can I do to makes this…” Harry stops not knowing what more to say. There is no reversing what happened, there is no bringing back Theodore. There is nothing. Having lost his connection to Draco even for a few moments had left Harry drowning in an emptiness so vast that he thought he would go mad. Blaise will not get a reprieve, like Harry did with Draco’s return. It will take time to make the loss even tolerable. Mating would fulfill the needs of the wolf for a mate, for protection, but it will not take away Blaise’s feelings for his lost husband.

The wolf in Blaise has already grieved at the lost and survived it. Now, the beast is ready to seek a new mate, a strong one that will protect its offspring, but Blaise is obviously not ready to forget.

“Tell me what can I do?” Harry says trying to make this process easier for the man sitting across him looking lost and holding to his child like the it's his last lifeline.

“I keep thinking…” Blaise starts. “There was no force…when they got to the house, there was nothing, the wards didn’t react at all.” He looks to Harry, and for the first time since he sat next to him Harry sees more than vacant passivity in the dark eyes.

“How did they get through the wards?” Blaise asks his voice cracking with a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Sirius and Remus think that Everet…that he might have helped them through” Harry explains.

“Why? Why do they think that?”

“He was the only other Nott in the capital and not already in the house, the wards wouldn’t have stopped him from entering, and…he would be the next Nott heir if Theodore and Aaron were to....” Harry finishes awkwardly.

“If they were dead." Blaise concludes Harry's sentence "I think about it” Blaise tells him. “Since I've been able to think again…I keep thinking about it. But-- ” he says and angry tears spill down his face. “He would visit us and play with Aaron and always, always be there for Theo.”

“Blaise…”

“He’s supposed to be _family_! What more could he have now that he did not have before?! Money? He has his own fortune and part of the Nott money…why…do this?! Why _kill_ your own?” Blaise asks his shaking disturbing the sleeping child and making him shift in the arms that hold him.

“I cannot tell you.” Harry responds feeling completely inadequate to help Blaise in any way through the pain of loss and betrayal.

“But you do believe that he helped them…so does my mother doesn’t she?”

“She gave to understand that that was the case, yes.”

“She wants me to mate you because otherwise I belong to the Notts, to Everet…” Blaise concludes.

Harry nods in affirmation of the conclusion and Blaise leans back in his chair.

“I want to see Draco.” He says after a moment to the Alpha.

“It’s not a good idea for you to be in the capital before we mate and Draco is recovering…”

“Recovering from what?” Blaise asks.

“He was poisoned, something intended for me but…in any case he is going to make a full recovery but he’s weak right now and I can’t bring him here.” Harry explains.

“I want to see him.” Blaise repeats.

“Blaise…”

“You can do this for me. I want to see him before the mating takes place.”

“I’m just warning you that I don’t think that speaking to him will make things easier. He is opposed to this and talking won’t change his mind.” Harry explained fearing what Draco might say in anger to his friend that he might later regret.

“Believe me, I know Draco well enough. I want to see him” Blaise insists. Harry sighs in defeat.

“Fine. He should be awake for longer than a few minutes at a time by tomorrow at the latest. I’ll see about bringing you to the capital or him here as soon as possible.” Harry tells him as he leaves his chair, and Blaise nods in understanding.

Before he can leave, Remus rushes into the kitchen and Harry stops waiting for the Beta to say what he obviously needs to.

“What’s happened?” he asks.

“The servant that tainted the bottles talked” Remus says and Harry suddenly remembers the man that had been caught by the wards when he sealed them after Draco was poisoned. He never remembered about him after Sirius said he would deal with it.

“What did he say?”

“That he was hired by a man working for a Lord.”

“That’s helpful” Harry says annoyed with the vagueness.

“Said the man’s name is Malter” Remus continues.

“We need that man then…”

Remus smiles and for a moment the sympathetic healer is lost in the almost cruel glint in his eyes. “Sirius and Charley have been hunting him the past few days.”

“The past _few days?_!” Harry asks outrage coloring his tone as he realizes that no one had bothered to keep him informed about what had been happening since the attempt on Draco's life. 

“Yes, and you were in no condition to help, so don’t look like that. Point being, we’ve got Malter.” Remus concludes.

“I want to see that man” Harry says immediately his magic cracking along his skin.

“No, you need to go see Draco who is awake, Ginny send me a message. I’m heading there and Severus will meet us there as well” Remus says to him before turning to Blaise.

“I overheard what you asked Harry. If you want to see Draco you can come with us” Remus says kindly to the Omega who simply nods in agreement.

Without any other delay Harry grabs Blaise’s arm and at his nod apparates the two of them to the Black Mansion, Remus quickly following them.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco observes Blaise as he enters his room with a still sleeping child in his arms and closes the door behind him gently.

The blond Omega says nothing for a moment. It is so simple to resent Blaise when he is somewhere else and not here looking so forlorn, so altered. His hair clinging to his forehead and falling down his back limp and greasy. The dark haired Omega has also lost weight, his clothing flaps around him when he moves and hangs off his frame limply when he stops, and his skin is drawn around his eyes leaving his face with a ready to crack look.

 _“What do you want to be done with him then?”_ Harry’s question echoes in Draco's mind.

The Gods must truly hate us, he thinks as he looks at his childhood friend now. They have made me love you like a brother and hate you like a rival and they left the love in me. Draco wants to yell these words at his friend, he wants something to _change._ Because seeing Blaise, there is no denying that he still loves him, that seeing him so broken, so sad _hurts_ Draco's heart.

“I’m sorry Blaise” he says finally, the pain in his friend’s posture overshadowing any other words.

“They poisoned you” Blaise says as he moves closer to the bed.

“Yea, they were targeting Harry.” Draco says the idea still making him anxious just to know that they had been so close to killing his mate.

“He let me come in first to talk to you” Blaise says. “I shouldn’t be in the capital at all…I’ll be leaving immediately…”

“Blaise—”

“I don’t want to mate him Draco, but I will.” Blaise says almost apologetically but with steel determination underlining his words.

“I know” Draco says tiredly. So tiredly that he cannot master the energy to be angry, not right now.

“I am sorry about Theo, Blaise, truly.” He says because he knows this is what he must say right now.

“I didn’t really think it would happen” Blaise says as he sits on the bed next to Draco his back to the headboard. “I knew in my head obviously, and I was always paranoid looking over my shoulder… but I somehow still thought that we would make it out of all of this and I…I don’t…” For a moment he seems to forget what he meant to say and then gives up on remembering what the words were.

Draco tries to lift his hand to place it over Blaise’s on the bed but even that action is too much for his recovering muscles.

“What do you want” he says instead.

“What?” Blaise says as if waking from a sleep.

“You said you don’t want to mate Harry, but what do you want?” Draco asks again trying to make both of them forget about the upcoming mating.

“I…” Blaise says, seemingly not expecting to be asked that question twice in the same day. He smiles slightly for a moment. “Harry has changed you” he tells Draco.

Draco smiles knowing the statement to be true. In the past Draco rarely thought about others. Not because he wanted to ignore their wants but because he was often blinded by his own preoccupations too much to notice the preoccupations of others. But he could not afford such blindness anymore.

“What do you want?” He asks the brunet again.

“I want to know if Everet helped them get into the Nott grounds” Blaise says without pause. “And if he did, I want him dead.” He finishes.

“Everet?” Draco says surprise coloring his voice. “But…he helped them?!”

“That’s what it looks like” Blaise says.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco lies still as he stares at his sleeping mate that lies next to him. He has not been able to stop thinking since he saw Blaise about what is to come. Cannot stop thinking that he is not the only one unhappy about the situation. In his feverish imagines of Harry’s and Blaise’s mating, he always imagined them passionately loving each other. He saw in his mind’s eye their love washing away all that he could ever offer Harry. He saw himself become a presence like a ghost hunting them, always there but never substantial enough to be part of their lives. But after Blaise sat next to him, silent tears running down his face as he thought about Theo…As Harry sleeps so soundly next to him, exhaustion forcing him to after days of sitting by Draco in fear of losing him…

For the first moment he realizes that this situation, if it is a conspiracy to destroy his hopes, it’s a conspiracy of the gods and not of those he has loved and often hated so completely. Draco realizes for the first time that Blaise suffers, that Harry suffers, that they are all withstanding what life throws at them without being able to do anything about it. The only problem with that is that Draco never appreciated the power of fate, especially when fate sets her bets against him.

Slowly and as silently as he possibly can manage, he moves to the side of the bed and slips out of the blankets. It takes him a moment to gain enough momentum to push his still recovering body off the mattress and another moment to gain his balance after he manages it. Making his way to the Black library, which is on the main floor a few doors down from the study in which he came close to dying only a week or so ago. The steps are a challenge, his knees shake uncontrollably and his hold on the banister is lax because of the lack of strength in his arms, but he persists. There is an itch in the back of his mind, a persistent buzzing like a fly zipping by his ears over and over that won’t let him rest. There is something that he _almost_ can remember, but not quite. There is something about…

_“I want to know if Everet helped them get into the Nott grounds” Blaise says_

Those words seem to buzz with something in their pain filled meaning. Making it to the library in the dark is a challenge, and he curses himself for an idiot for not bringing a candle with him despite the fact that he would probably not be able to carry one in any case. Once he enters the room, he tries his magic to see if he can create some light but there is barely a feel of magic running through his body as weak as a breeze in the heat of summer.

“Damn it!” he wheezes before he falls onto a chair to rest.

After a moment of respite his eyes become accustomed to the darkness he consecrates on the shape of the candelabra that he can make out on two side tables across from him. He tries once more to push the little magic he feels at least to create a spark to light one candle. When one light suddenly shines into the room he breathes a sigh of relief before going through the process of getting up again and using the single candle to light all the others.

Once light floods the room and with the single candle in hand, Draco begins his search for what he knows is important even if he cannot exactly recall it.


	20. Antipositional Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It has been soooo long... :(  
> I have missed you. Hope you enjoy the following chapter :)

There is a special strength that takes over a person on a mission. It's a feeling that takes over the mind, suppresses all exhaustion, dismisses all the surroundings until there is nothing but the objective that consumes you. It’s not a feeling that can be forced, but once it takes hold there, is no escape. The mind knows only that this begins and ends all else. It is the attempt of the desperate who before losing all hope discover a sliver that might yet become their salvation.

As Draco flips through another page, dismisses another tome, as his eyes, burning with lack of sleep, scan the next tome on the shelves. He doesn’t notice the shaking of his arms as they lifted the heavy books, muscles straining under their own weight and much more so with the added burden. He doesn’t notice the weakness of his legs that don’t allow him more than to drag his feet slowly as he makes his way back to the table he has all his research sprawled on, from ancient tomes to frail scrolls as frail as his own frame. There is no awareness of having a body, of being, because his being had become a quest, a goal, a single, final, tenuous hope.

As he sits again before the collection of books, scrolls, and notes, as his eyes strain to bring yet another page into focus, the pages cracking under the weight of his fingers, Draco thinks of nothing beyond his quest, his hope that nothing but his desperation holds alive.

Hours later, the candles have burned out and the sunlight has replaced them as a source of light in the room, the creaking of the door as it shoots open goes unheard by the Omega who is quickly making notes on a piece of parchment.

“What the hell are you doing Draco!” Harry says through his labored breaths as he finally finds his wayward mate sitting behind a mountain of books.

“What?” Says the Omega looking up as if just waking up. He blinks slowly at the Alpha who is standing before him staring down at him as if expecting something, probably a response, but for his life Draco has no idea what Harry said so he just stares back at the dark haired man.

Despite Harry standing right there, Draco’s mind cannot quite process his presence as it still contemplates everything he has read over however long he has sat in the silence of the library alone.

“Harry what are you doing up?” He says before realizing that the light in the room is no longer coming from the candles which have long burnt out but from the windows. It’s daylight.

“How long have you been here?” Harry asks him, a frown marring his features as he examines the confused look on Draco’s face.

The Alpha moves around the desk and leans close to the Omega, the palm of his right hand lays softly on the other’s brow. There is no fever which relives him. He slowly kneels next to the Omega’s chair.

“Draco…what are you doing here?” He asks slowly as if trying to not jolt the Omega out of his delicate state of mind. After all, Draco is still recuperating from a procedure that actually killed him, so some confusion might be expected.

“Why are you talking to me like that?” Draco responds finally surfacing from his semi-conscious state and annoyed with Harry’s careful tone.

“Well you looked…” Harry does not finish the sentence thinking he might regret it later. Instead he looks at the mess of books littered on the desk and the floor that surround the Omega and raises an eyebrow in question.

“Juridical precedence: Conjugal Dissolution” one tome has scrawled with bright golden threads on the its leather binding.

“Something you are trying to tell me?” Harry asks looking from the tome to Draco and back. Draco follows the direction until he also reads the title and rolls his eyes.

“I’m leaving you even though we are bound” he says leaning back into his chair, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

“That’s not a good joke” Harry says suddenly very vividly reminded of the feeling of losing his connection with Draco during the detoxification of the blonde’s body.

“When I was supposedly mated to Lestrange and he started beating me, I…at the beginning and for a while…I started looking for ways to get out.” Draco says obviously struggling to discuss in any detail his experience of a year of marriage with Lestrange when facing Harry in the light of day.

The Omega feels Harry’s hand on his own and accepts the comfort it offers, allowing the Alpha to interlace their fingers together. There are things that he will never speak of outside the darkness and silence of their bedroom. In the rare nights that Harry holds him in his arms and listens as Draco speaks Draco has related much of what his experiences were during the time he was with Lestrange.

Draco has managed to share most of what happened to him while in the Lestrange household and Harry has never mentioned anything outside the confines of their chamber. Draco is surprised by the fact that he told Harry about those things, he thought he would never tell anyone. But when the Omega slips under the shame the memories alone can still evoke, Harry pulls him fiercely close to him and whispers “never again” and that is all Draco needs, and its more than he ever hoped to have from an Alpha after the damage Lestrange had caused him.

As he feels the weight of Harry’s hand over his, Draco feels infinite regret fill him. Why could he speak of all the things that happened with Lestrange to Harry but could not tell him about the fertility potions, the jealousy, the pain and desperation he felt about not giving Harry heirs?

It’s a question he has always known the answer to but has never wanted to face. It took a long time to accept that despite the shame he felt when he remembered what had happened to him, it was all Lestrange’s fault. Draco had over time accepted that he had no control of what occurred in his life at that time. In a way, although the idea of being weak…of being a victim leaves a bitter trail from his mind to his soul, it has also allow him to absolve himself of blame. What happened to him was not his fault. He was mated to a cruel, evil man that had taken advantage of the power he held over Draco’s life, that was not Draco’s fault; it was the fault of the society and the laws that gave Lestrange such power over his Omega.

So Draco learned to speak to Harry about it and it felt like cleansing a putrid wound, immensely painful but ultimately worth the effort.

However, his inability to have children, that was something he never talked to Harry about because despite having no control over this failure, for Draco this is a complete and absolute failure that’s wholly his. This is his fault and no one else’s and admitting that he could not give Harry what he needs is equal in Draco’s mind to giving Harry permission to mate again, and he does not want that. So Draco kept silent, turned to the potions, and almost lost Harry anyway by pushing him constantly away.

As he looks at the Alpha now, Draco decides he does not want to continue this way, he does not want to push Harry away. Harry is his mate and the person he loves, and maybe Draco thinks, maybe he could tell Harry that.

“Draco?” Harry asks, his worried expression resurfacing as the Omega maintains his long silence.

“Sorry…I was…anyway” Draco says blinking rapidly before turning his attention toward the books scattered before him.

“I was looking for a way out of my marriage with Lestrange…There is no way to dissolve a union on the side of an Omega but I saw an interesting thing…not interesting then to me because it had no application to what I was dealing with but…” He lets go of Harry’s hand and pushes his notes and a thin tome toward the Alpha.

_Inheritance Rights: Arbedine to Soctern, Custody and Contention_

Harry quickly reads through the segment that appears to deal with issues of contesting heirs to noble family titles and fortunes. He looks at Draco’s notes before skipping to the paragraph the Omega has annotated.

“ _Contentions based on suspected criminal acts against an underage Heir apparent by part of the custodial claimant that result in the opening of a criminal investigation against such custodian and might arouse reasonable doubt about the safety of the Heir and the Birth Parent might, under the discretion of a judicial entity, be accepted as grounds for the dissolution of connections among such parties until the time the Heir is of age. Such connections may be restored if and when the Heir claims the title as is such Heir’s right.”_

“This…” Harry stops and moment and looks to the Omega.

“If there is a strong case against the potential custodian of attempting to, let's say to murder the heir, then the heir would not be placed under their custody.” Draco supplies.

“Everet” Harry concludes. “But Nott already resolved this by giving me custody of Aaron…”

“Yes, that’s not what’s important in the passage” Draco says as he raises a slightly trembling hand, exhaustion shaking his entire frame. His index finger taps the words “ _the Birth Parent_ ” directing Harry's eyes to them.

“Draco—”

“The problem we have is that Blaise would still belong to the Notts and only another mating would release him of their claim…But, if we can prove that Everet is a danger to Aaron, that he actively participated in the murder of his cousin and attempted murder of the heir apparent, then we have a case to make that Blaise should be allowed to return to his family along with his son.” Draco finishes, almost whispering.

It had taken him almost the entire night to find this paragraph even with his magic helping him. It’s not the same text he had read almost two years ago, nor the same author, but that is good because the more support for this argument there is the better. It is a risk to base a judicial case on such apocryphal laws that Draco had never even heard of before his marriage to Lestrange despite having studied law extensively when his father still believed Draco would present as Alpha.

“You are saying that—that with this argument in place I would not have to mate Blaise” Harry concludes.

“I don't want you to mate Blaise, Harry. I can't stop you and I'm not going to ask you not to mate him.” Draco says slowly. He looks at the Alpha and takes a deep breath before continuing. He has decided to be open with Harry, no better time than the present, he thinks.

“I am barren. If you don't mate Blaise…I will never want you to mate again, not Blaise or Ginny or anyone else. So, I suppose what I am asking is not if you can live without another mate, rather: can you live without heirs?”

Draco waits with bated breath, he can feel his still weak heart pound widely against his chest as if he is running for his life and it makes him a little queasy. In a sense his life is on the line, dependent on Harry’s words. Draco waits and hopes.

“Draco…what if the answer is no?” Harry asks carefully.

Draco’s eyes close for a moment. For a moment he is sure he cannot do this, he cannot have this conversation after all. It hurts too much. But on the other hand, it must be done, and he is _tired_ of being weak, of being a coward. He wants to stop being ashamed for what or who he is. He is a barren Omega, this is something that affects him and his mate. There is no point in prolonging a silence that is poisoning us both, he decides before he responds.

“If the answer is no, you should mate Blaise, there is no one that would be a better mate politically and emotionally” Draco says in a monotone and looks toward the window.

“You are wrong” Harry says, making the Omega turn to look at him confused for moment.

“I already have the best possible mate both politically and emotionally” he tells the Omega with an indulgent smile.

“You won’t have heirs” Draco says, for some reason now arguing against his own case. This must be what it means to love someone he thinks, to think of their needs above your own…Draco does not particularly like the experience of it.

“The Potter name—” the Omega continues.

“The Potters stopped existing twenty years ago, maybe I should accept that” Harry says. “I think I can accept that” the Alpha concludes.

“I’m—” _sorry_ is the word Draco does not allow to escape his lips. He is sorry that he cannot give Harry children but he is not sorry that Harry has chosen him over the possibility of children so is he truly sorry?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaise stands very straight and looks on impassively as his eminence the Honorable lord, the Judge of the first district, Insighton Avery reviews the documents presented to him by the Zabini barrister Mr. Hamsel.

This is insanely idiotic, Blaise can hear his mother’s voice say in the back of his head. He knows that. He knew when he spoke with Draco and he knew when he walked into the Zarbini Mansion demanding his mother attend to him. It was the first time since he was a child that Blaise had _demanded_ anything of his mother. Unlike Draco’s situation, there had been little question about Blaise’s status, even as a child people would say he had a look about him that screamed Omega. Although Blaise thinks it was more his passive personality rather than his looks that indicated what his status would be. In any case, the guesses weren’t wrong and no one was surprise when he experienced his first heat. After reaching maturity, Blaise quickly learned that Omega meant ‘stay out of the way and don’t bother the Alphas’ and he had accepted this.

He did not fight the reality of his life. It was not as bad as Draco made it seem. Nothing really changed for him, Estell Zabini never really had much time for any of her children Alpha or Omega. Blaise never resented it, they were a powerful family but the Clash and the death of his father had shaken their position and his mother worked very hard to ensure that the political changes didn’t result in the Zabinis ending up destroyed like so many other families had.

So Blaise never demanded more of his mother than she could realistically give, either of her time or her affections. But two days ago he walked into his mother’s office with the intention of putting whatever affection she had for him on the line, test whether she had any affection for him at all or if he was just a familial obligation to her.

“You are not mated” his mother chided him as soon as he sat in the armchair across her desk.

“No.” Blaise replied and placed the documents he was carrying on the polished surface of the desk, pushing them slightly toward her.

Without saying a word, Estell Zabini collected the documents and begun reading through them. In most situations the silence would have been nerve racking for Blaise, but nowadays silence did not make him nervous, it made him sad. In Theo’s absence silence seemed to echo. The silence had become the silence of absence of life not simply the absence of noise. He took deep breaths as he waited for his mother; he pushed the feeling of being hollow away replacing it with the only two things that seemed to make him feel again, his love for Aaron and his anger for Everet.

“This won’t work. Although I must admit that the route is imaginative” His mother finally said when she was done reading. She looked at him steadily as she placed the documents back on the desk and pushed him toward him reflecting his actions of a moment ago.

Anger against her shot though him and surprised him momentarily. He felt like a child being dismissed after asking a silly question.

“You need a new Alpha. A bond is an unquestionable and irreversible way of keeping you out of Nott’s hands. Black is young, powerful, and descend and already bound by word to the mating. This…” she waved a careless hand toward the documents.

“This is a paper, it means nothing. All Everet Nott would need to do is extend the case and demand you return to Nott custody until the case is brought to trial. And believe me, he’ll mount you before the door is close behind you. One rutting and there won’t _be_ a case because you will belong to him not as the widow of one of his relatives but as his own mate.” She explains slowly to him.

“We can demand that I stay here until the case is brought before a court” Blaise replied.

“Blaise” Estell said sharply, frustration coloring her tone before she collected herself.

“Blaise” she said again in a consolatory way. “Believe me my child, I know what it feels like to lose a mate” she said and for a moment a sliver of pity shines through her beautiful dark eyes. “I understand, and I wish you had never lived thought what you are living now.”

“However, your pain should not blind you to the realities of your situation. If you stand before a judge that supports Nott or is simply conservative you will and up in Nott’s house and there will be nothing I will be able to do about it.” She finished.

“I don’t want to mate Lord Black” Blaise insisted.

“Fine not Black, choose someone else then.” She told him.

“I _do not_ want to mate anyone.”

“Do you want to end up the fuck toy of the man that murdered your husband?!” She cut his words, her eyes had hardened as she challenged him by throwing the very possible scenario in his face.

“It won’t happen if you help me.”

“Blaise…”

“Please. Mother, Mom…I need you to help me.” He said softly.

“I will not help you destroy your chances to survive this situation” Estell replied.

“For once _listen to me_. Please, you can help me. I can’t mate again.”

“Blaise you say that now but once you mate with Black this feeling will subside the wolf will have a bond again—”

“Fucking see me as a person and as not an Omega for once!” Blaise said as he shot out of his seat.

There was silence while mother and son looked at one another. Blaise could almost feel the steel of his mother’s will pushing at him, demanding that he capitulate, see reason. But he did not back down, there was something about doing this, he _needed to do this_.

For once he wanted to believe that he could do what he thought was best and not what he was told was best. He knew he could mate Harry Black. He knew Black would treat him well. He knew he would probably be breeding within a couple of months if Black asked him to stop the birth control potions. And he knew in a completely visceral way, in a way that could not be explained, that he was not ready for any of it. If he did this he would lose something about himself. He would make the sacrifice for his son if he must, but he wanted to fight before giving up on himself. He wanted to try and all he was asking for was an opportunity to fight for what was left of him.

“Help me stand before a judge and make a case, Lord Black will be present too. If the judge declares that I should return to the Nott household until the case is arbitrated, I will fuck Black in the restrooms if need be and that will be that. But first…let me try.” He told her.

Estell Zabini remained silent for a moment looking at her son with a strange expression as if considering someone she was meeting for the first time and determining his value. After a few seconds went by, her hand stretched over the polished surface of the desk and she collected the papers again.

“The most important step is to find the appropriate judge to listen to the case, someone predisposed to favor our family… that will stack the situation in our favor. We’ll have to act quickly… I will review this more carefully” She said as she begun re-reading the documents her attention was then completely centered on the papers in her hands the silence a clear dismissal for the other person in the room.

Blaise did not mind the dismissal. His mother had never been very affectionate and turning her attention to something else was almost always her way of dismissing people, including her children. But this time Blaise felt a certain warmth for his mother that he had not felt since he was a very young child when she used to hold him in her arms when it stormed because he was afraid of the thunder. Estell Zabini was pouting her considerable brain power to use for his sake, she was dismissing the world in order to think solely about him and how to help him and in that moment Blaise’s heart hurt just a bit less as it was reminded that even if he had lost his mate and lover, he still had people that loved him profoundly, even if it was in their silent and distant manner.

Blaise is surprised that his mother ended up pulling all the strings she could to get Avery to preside on his case. Avery is not a liberal Judge, quit the opposite in fact which in a way made this a very risky move. However, Blaise is banking on Avery owing something to his mother or that his mother knows something about the judge the judge would rather not be known. He cannot think of another reason why Estell Zabini would go through the trouble of calling in favors otherwise.

“I see…” The judge mumbles as he flips to the last page of the case file the barrister had presented him with.

“There are witnesses that support the allegations that Lord Everet Nott entered the Nott property in the company of individuals that had ill intent against the family and that Lord Everet Nott was _aware_ that these were the intentions of these individuals?”

Blaise wants to swallow down the discomfort at the wording of the Judge. There were plenty of witnesses that could testify that Everet lowered the wards to allow himself and the group to enter the property, many of the guests of the party were in the terrace and saw when Everet arrived. However, the weakest part of their case is proving that Everet knew that the people he let into the property intended to harm the family. Everet can easily allege that they forced him to lower the wards or that they convinced him that they were expected by the family or something else.

“With all due respect Honorable Judge, the question of whether Lord Everet was aware of the ill intent of the individuals he allowed into the property is secondary to the fact that he did allow them onto Nott property, action which directly resulted in the death of his cousin and Patriarch of the family the late Lord Theodore Nott.” Hamsel quickly interjects.

“Ultimately this action must be considered sufficient to cast doubt about Lord Everet’s intentions.”

“Hmm…” Judge Avery mumbles contemplatively. “So what are you suggesting? Here it says that as a preventative method of protection you want the young heir and its sire to be placed under the custody of the Zabini family. However, I have here a document that placed young Lord Aaron Nott under the custody of Lord Black” he says looking at Lord Black who sits a few seats behind Blaise’s placement.

Harry gives a curt nod at the judge’s questioning stare.

“So if the young lord has, following the wishes of his sire, been placed under the custody of Lord Black what are you doing here? He is safe from Lord Everet one way or another” Avery concludes.

“The young lord is indeed safe thanks to the fortunate provisions made by his father. However, his birth parent, the Lord Blaise Nott does not enjoy such protections and would be required to return to the Nott household currently headed by the Lord Everet Nott” Hamsel explains.

“He’s a Nott Omega.” Avery states as if that is enough to dismiss the case as a whole. An Omega belongs to the family it belongs to. Protecting an Alpha heir is worthy of an arbitration but…having a case for an Omega? Avery is clearly struggling with the concept.

“Honorable Judge, it cannot be overstated that the possibility of living under the roof of potentially the person that planned the assignation of his husband and son might be more than should be asked of a grieving and defenseless Omega” Hamsel says his tone invoking the image of a distraught and broken creature left in the claws of a conniving enemy that would do terrible things to him. Overall it was not far off the mark of Blaise’s situation, so Blaise did not feel insulted by the description.

Avery frowns again. “The Omega is a Nott, he belongs to the Nott household.”

“What if he is forced to mate the man that might have planned the murder of his husband and son” Hamsel insists.

“He is a _Nott_ _Omega._ It is the family’s right and prerogative to choose a new mate for him” Avery insists and Blaise feels the bile rise up his throat at the idea of Everet claiming him.

“My lord…Judge” Blaise says suddenly interrupting the response Hamsel was preparing. All eyes turned to him and for a moment he is not sure that intervening will benefit him or seal his fate and he’ll end up locked in a public restroom fucking Harry Black to create a bond that will keep Everet away from him after all.

“My lord Judge” he repeats as he stands up looking at Avery. “My Lord husband was burned alive…” for a moment the words chock him, but he forces them out.

“He was burned alive by _magic fire_ ” The words magic fire make Avery wince in an almost imperceptible way. Everyone knows of the horrors such death would bring upon the victim before ending their existence.

“I have no doubt that the man that will soon be before you potentially contesting Theodore’s final wish to have Lord Black care for Aaron will also make a claim on my person. He will use me and my wellbeing to pressure Lord Black and my Lady _Mother_ , Lady Estell Zabini” Blaise stresses the name to remind Avery he should not contest this too much or whatever the Lady Zabini has on him will come back to haunt him.

“He will use me to pressure them into giving Aaron into his custody. This man _murdered_ my husband, his own blood! Should he really be awarded an Omega as reward for his actions?!” Blaise finishes and waits for Avery to respond.  

“Lord Nott, I will ask that you do not state your suspicions as facts. There is yet no proof that Lord Everet Nott planned the _alleged_ attack…” Avery says and looks quite uncomfortable and severe as he stares at Blaise.

“Considering the lack of concrete evidence regarding the culpability of Lord Everet Nott, in good faith I cannot dismiss the fundamental right of the Nott family to their property. An Omega belongs—” Avery says as he lifts the gavel ready to dismiss the case.

“Can I request a reprieve my Lord Judge Avery, only a few minutes if you would be so kind?” Harry’s voice sounds, interrupting the Judge’s words before the elder man has a chance of hitting the gavel and making his words the final decision of the court.

“This is most unusual Lord Black” Avery says his frown darkening more as his eyes move restlessly.    

“Even so, I would insist. Only a few moments” Harry insists.

As soon as Avery consents to a twenty minute break quite unwillingly if his stiff posture is any indication, Harry grabs Blaise by the arm and drags him out of the court room.

“The restrooms are down the hall to the left” Blaise tells him in monotone as they go through the double doors.

“I’ll keep that in mind if the fool insists on giving you to Everet” Harry responds as he moves quickly pass the restrooms and down the hall where a tall red-haired Alpha sits.

“All good then?” Charlie Weasley asks as Harry moves toward him.

“No. Someone else got to Avery and is putting him under more effective pressure than Zabini is.” Harry says as he releases Blaise.

“Everet?” Charlie asks.

“No, Everet doesn’t have connections in the Court circles” Blaise responds quickly and at the questioning look of the two Alphas he explains. “He got a very high fine last year for fraudulent declaration of farming yields. If he had even a slight connection to anyone in the courts, he would never had been fined. Other Lords get away with it all the time, but Everet got fined. He doesn’t have any influence with the Judges” Blaise concludes.

Harry nods in understanding “Riddle is supporting him then. Riddle would have been informed immediately that this suit came up and he probably told Avery what result he wants” he says.

“Then there is no point in fighting this” Blaise says, knowing that if Lord Riddle is behind it no argument is going to convince Avery to change his judgement.

“Stay here.” He tells Blaise. “Charlie there’s a good chance someone will try something now” Harry says looking around.

They were expecting someone to try and kidnap Blaise while he is exposed in the capital, which is why Harry asked Charlie to accompany them. Ron is a good fighter but no one is as deadly as Charlie Weasley who had spent more than ten years in the fighting pits, the fact that he survived that long is enough to prove that he is the best person to have at one’s back when an attack is eminent.  

“Alright, Lord Nott” Charlie says looking at the Omega. “Sit yourself right there if you please.” He tells the Omega while indicating a sit that is wedged into a corner, no other seats or doors anywhere near it.

“I don’t want—” Blaise starts his anxiety making him too nervous to sit.

“Just sit your ass in that chair” Charlie cuts him off and then as if an afterthought he adds “My Lord.” Blaise looks at the Alpha for a few silent moments for some reason not wanting to do as he is told.

“Blaise, all he wants is to make sure no one will come up behind you, grab you, and apparate away. If you are in the corner they will have to come up from the front and Charlie will deal with them.” Harry says interrupting the standoff.

When the Omega does not move immediately he adds “Please” and Blaise finally removes himself to the corner.

“Don’t know what you see in these high bred Omegas Harry, they are too much work if you ask me” Charlie says.

“Yea you say that while looking at his ass though” Harry snorts at him and Charlie smirks.

“Pity that ass is high bred” Charlie says before moving to stand between Blaise who now sits in his corner and the entrance to the Court building.

As soon as Blaise is with his body guard, Harry quickly moves back toward the court but instead of entering the main chamber, he takes a door to the side and enters the anti-chamber were he finds Avery sitting behind his office reading through some documents.

“Lord Black” Avery says cautiously when he sees the young Alpha.

“Judge” Harry says but does not incline his head in show of respect as is customary. Harry quickly deposits himself in the seat across Avery without waiting for an invitation to do so.

“Lord Black—”

“It is my understanding that your family has traversed through some unfortunate circumstances that have left you beholden to the Zabini family as they had secured much of the debt” Harry says without deferment.

Avery stiffens as his back becomes ramrod straight and he stared at the Alpha sitting across from him.

“Are you suggesting that my personal connections with the Zabinis should influence the outcome of my verdict” he asks the Alpha, his tone full of affront.

“I am simply stating a fact, which explains, in my mind, why the Lady Zabini might have recommended the case be brought before you.”

“The Lady was mistaken if she believed that my obligations to her family would make me forget my obligations to my profession and oath as a Judge of the first District” Avery replies, his words clipped and sharp and uncompromising.

Harry nods in agreement. “Commendable, commendable” he says to the older Alpha.

“I would like however to emphasize the fact that there quite a body of evidence that suggest that Lord Blaise Nott would be in danger if returned to the Notts.” Harry insists.

“These arguments should be made on the court floor Lord Black not in my personal chambers.” Avery replies coldly clearly dismissing Harry.

Harry leaves his chair but stands there looking down at the older Alpha that continues to sit. When the Judge refuses to look up at him, he says: “You did not ask why I agreed with Lady Zabini’s choice of your court for this case.”

Avery looks up confused. “Excuse me?” he says not sure what the Alpha means.

“You did not question why I agreed that this suit should be brought before you” Harry repeats. “Truly a shame…financial troubles can lead some into…such _risky_ ventures, especially the young and inexperienced…” The young Alpha continues.

Avery’s body seems to freeze in place. And Harry leans over the office, looming over the sitting man.

“Tell me my Lord Judge, does your implacable sense of justice extend to your son and heir?” There is no reply to the words as Avery simply stares almost as if he is staring through Harry and seeing someone else.

“Trafficking in slaves, Noble born kidnappings, and illegal potions are capital offenses punishable by death, if I remember correctly…” Harry continues.

“Lord Black…” Avery says and his throat seems to work in an attempt to push more words out. Harry stares him down implacably. Then, his eyes soften for a moment.

“I understand that an important friend might have made a suggestion to you as to what the _just_ course of action is in this verdict. However, I would guess that such an overall insignificant matter cannot be of great importance to someone as…occupied with higher goals” Harry tells him.

“I would be very sorry to see you or any member of your family inconvenienced by this matter my Lord Judge.” Harry concludes and at the judge’s shaky nod, he gives sharp smile. “I will see you in the session then” the young Alpha says before turning and leaving the room.  

As Blaise stands before Avery once more, he feels his heart throbs with anticipation of the decision that will determine the rest of his life.

“After reviewing the documents more closely” Avery begins and shuffles the documents in question a moment. “After reviewing the documents submitted” he repeats. “I have determined that there is just cause for concern and thus for the well being of the lord Blaise Nott and until the investigation concerning the late Lord Theodore Nott is completed, Lord Blaise Nott will be returned to the custody of his birth family” Avery concludes and Blaise is so surprised and relieved that he misses the looks exchanged between the judge and Harry Black who sits a few seats behind the Omega.


	21. Unraveling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I have been gone for a while but I bring an offering of a long chapter as apology. For everyone that has offered kudos and commented on the story, I want to say that although I have not replied directly, thank you very much, your encouragement is the reason I am currently updating!

Harry yanks the formal robes off his body as he moves away from the Council meeting, his long strides faster than usual as he attempts to escape the extensive halls of the Turrent and all its current occupants. The meeting had been an abysmal failure, as had been most his endeavors in the past few weeks.

  
Things began to deteriorate the moment Malter, the poisoner who was hired to kill Harry, said the words “Mr. Aldon.” The moment the man uttered the name of the man that hired him, he seized up and promptly died of heart failure. Remus had quickly determined that whoever had hired him had performed a marking on the man, a violent ritual that requires violent subjugation of another person followed by the imbedding of a course mark under the skin. The curse would then be triggered by a particular phrase or action of the caster’s choosing. It was clear that in the case of Malter, uttering the words “Mr. Aldon” was the trigger. Of course, his death in the basement of the Black estate meant that they got no other information concerning the man that almost cost Draco his life, and they had to deal with ridding themselves of the Beta’s body.

  
Harry is perfectly aware that Riddle must have ordered the attack. Despite the fact that Harry is not particularly influential yet, he was close to Theodore Nott who had been giving Riddle more than a few headaches with his refusal to commit any of the Eastern troops to Riddle’s campaign against Verdean. Beyond the connection to Theo, Harry became a problem himself after being named little Aaron’s guardian which means that effectively until Aaron becomes of age, Harry controls the Eastern troops. This turn of events was not favorable as Riddle knew for a fact that Everet would give him access to the eastern troops. The man had helped Riddle kill his cousin in his desire to take over as the head of the Nott House, and Everet would have understood that the favor of removing Theodore and his son from the way would cost him. The cost is, as it always has been, absolute obedience to the Riddle House. Harry had become an impediment to this arrangement so killing him would have solved the problem. Harry knows this is the only rational sequence of events that might have prompted Riddle to attempt to kill him so quickly. He knows that Riddle does not suspect who he really is, so there is simply no other explanation.

  
For all the good it did him to know it. With Malter dead and the name Aldon meaning nothing to anyone they asked, there is simply no way to prove anything or in any way implicate Riddle in any way. Harry finds himself filled with impotent anger. His mate died. His mate had laid on a bed and _died_ , and he could not even _attempt_ to punish the man responsible for it. Harry spends his nights sleeping only a couple of hours at a time, the most minimal sound waking him, his heart racing, his claws elongating, and his body ready to transform. He lives in constant state of alert, always checking Draco’s position, always expecting something more to happen because Riddle cannot possibly give up so easily. The man had not taken over the High Council through lack of perseverance.

  
So, now Harry lives in constant expectation of the next attack and the fear that it will be one he might not counter in time, that it might be the one that costs Draco his life or Sirius, Remus, or the Weasleys. Harry has increased the security of the Black Mansion and fired all the servants fearing another traitor in their mist, but he does not feel like this is enough. Riddle’s death is the only thing that will secure them any level of peace, of that Harry is sure.

  
If matters were not bad enough because of his personal crisis, he is also quickly losing all support he cultivated in the Council since becoming a member. Most of the other Nobles had come to severely question his honor, his bravery, and his ability to do the most rudimentary level of thinking. First the Lestrange challenge which still hung over him, despite Harry’s best attempts to shake the shadow of cowardice, the notion became intertwined with his stepping down and allowing his _Omega_ to take his place.

  
Some of the Nobles had been convinced by Harry’s bold speeches and open opposition to Riddle that forfeiting the Lestrange challenge had been done for shock value. However, Harry had lost all support after failing to mate with Blaise Nott and allowing Blaise and Aaron to leave the country. The Nobles of the High Council were a group that did not view change as a positive and seldom understood things that had no political value and were not grounded by tradition. Harry not mating with Blaise when he had the chance, when this highborn, fertile Omega had been _offered_ to him was such a monumental political mistake that the only appropriate word for it is stupidity. The two incidents combined have proven to be too much even for his most committed supporters. His actions demonstrated such a lack of good judgement; they go so much beyond a faux pas that his reputation simply cannot recover.

  
Now rumors abound that he did not mate with Blaise because as a bastard and only a _half_ _Noble_ , he obviously cannot have maintained two bonds with two Noble Omegas. Suddenly everyone remembers that Harry is not _really_ one of their own and all have begun to consider that maybe he should not have been allowed to join their ranks. As far as the Nobles of the Council are concerned, Harry is either cowardly, weak, or stupid and possibly all three. He has suddenly gone from being sought to being ignored. Even Lucius is being shunned, his influence quickly diminishing as he seems to have lost the ear of Lord Riddle and be stuck with an idiotic son in law for an Heir and no hope for at least a grandchild. Instead of Lucius pulling Harry up the political ladder, Harry has thrown both of them down into the abyss of political death. The mocking comments follow him everywhere while in the Turrent, and all those that had hoped to support him and balance against Riddle are now back with their old master working harder than ever to ingratiate themselves with the man that still holds all the power.

  
The worst of all, is that Harry, Sirius, and Lucius had all seen this coming. Harry in particular had made it all happen. He had chosen to give Draco his closure knowing that it would cost him and his cause political support. Harry had known that not mating Blaise was under all logical, political, and economic considerations a terrible mistake, a loss of opportunity that no other Alpha would have let pass, yet he still did not mate with him. What is happening now is not accidental, but the consequences of all his resent decisions. Riddle is as powerful as he ever was and Harry is as far now from bringing justice to the man as he was as a six year old more than twenty years ago.

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There is breathless moment in which every eye skits over them too quickly to be called staring and too intensely to be called accidental. Draco raises his head in response, his bangs longer now catching onto his eyelashes for a moment as he responds to the scrutiny. Harry seems completely oblivious to the examination, but Draco can feel his muscles tensing beneath his fingertips. The Alpha is more than aware of the eyes following them. They make no show of being bothered as they move into the temple to celebrate the naming of Pansy’s and Crabbe’s son, a chubby over overactive child that started screaming long before the ceremony begins. Draco had agreed that this is a sufficiently formal and yet not official political occasion for them to make their first appearance after more than a month absence from the public eye.

Neither Draco nor Harry had really been seen much since the fire that took Theodore Nott’s life but in their absence rumors abounded. Of course everyone heard of the trial that granted Blaise his freedom for a few days, enough time for him to make his way discreetly across the border to Corthena where one of his uncles lives. The verdict that Judge Avery had given was summarily overturned three days later by the High Council itself, but by then Blaise and Aaron where already thousands of miles away from the sphere of influence of Riddle and Everet. Draco wished them both well wholeheartedly.

As Harry and Draco take the candles offered to them by one of the Crabbe servants at the entrance of the temple, they are approach by a few Council members. Lord Castor is the first to move close to them, attempting to appear natural as he all but runs toward them. Draco almost sneers as the man approaches them.

Lord Castor is not much to look at, and according to Narcissa he had never been anything to look at. The receding hair of his overly round head and stocky physique that seemed mismatched with his flowery movements made him almost caricaturist in his presentation. It is easy enough to consider him a gossipy old fool. However, those who pay attention to their history and to political events would note that Lord Castor had maintained his position of influence despite supporting the losing side during the Clash. Not only that, he had grown richer and more influential if not more respected over the years. Those that paid attention would also note that Lord Castor’s enemies had a curious tendency to find themselves embroiled in political or social scandals that more often than not ruined them. Draco pays attention and turned a warm welcoming smile to the man.

“Well, well, well!” Lord Castor greets them breathlessly as he stops before them a few feet from the entrance to the temple.

  
“What a pleasure to see you again Lord Black! And Draco! As enchantingly mesmerizing as ever. My dear you grow more beautiful, truly” he effuses smiling kindly at Draco.

  
“Thank you, Lord Castor.” Draco replies inclined his head toward the man.

“I hope your own mates are well” Harry replies formally.

  
“Oh yes, yes. The ladies are as they ever were, full of breath with which to unleash an avalanche of complaints” he responds and then laughs heartily at his joke his cheeks becoming rosier as mirth takes him.

The crowd forces them to move closer to the far right wall as more guests enter the temple and Draco worries as Castor follows them. If the man is following them and not moving to other guests then there is something specific he wants to know.

“Yes, yes. I have not seen you two since that terrible news about Nott. Yes, terrible, terrible a young mate and child alone in the world. Though, I hear Nott did make some provisions for his son in requesting your assistance Lord Black.” It’s not a question.

  
“And so that’s good. Although, I was a little surprised to hear that the young Omega was not mated to you. Such a beauty that one, of course nothing to you my dear” he finished turning to Draco again with a bland smile. The impertinence of the comment is not lost on either Harry nor Draco.

  
“Lord Blaise is in mourning and not ready to consider a new mating” Harry replies, implying that when Blaise does find himself in a position to consider a new mating Harry will be the choice.

“I see…good! Good! Yes! Losing his mate so suddenly, of course he needs time poor dear.” Castor heartily agrees. “Although time…time is such a commodity these days” he finishes looking toward the center of the Temple where the naming ceremony is about to commence.

  
“And yet some things cannot be rushed” Harry replies examining the man before him.

  
Castor has been one of Harry’s more discreet supporters and had stopped interacting with Harry after the Lestrange challenge. Castor is the most sensitive political creature Harry has ever come across, he knows when to support and when to abandon his allies to their fate and Harry had been sure that it would take much longer than a year before Castor forgot Harry’s stupidity at forfeiting the challenge. Not only that, but currently Harry finds himself in another scandal this time dealing with the death of another Noble, the custody of said Noble’s Heir, and rumors of a spurned Mating. Harry cannot understand what reason Castor might have to approach him now when Harry is for all intents and purposes in a political comma, his allies scattered after the attack on the Nott Mansion.

“Some things cannot be rushed, but others cannot be postponed” is the old Alpha’s reply before he says his goodbye and moves into the crowd.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco sits on their bed as Harry moves agitatedly around the room. The naming ceremony had been a very awkward experience, there was of course the constant titter tatter concerning the Nott incident, as it was described. There had been the slight but blatant acts of rudeness during and after the ceremony, and Draco expected that their invitations to other events will mysteriously lost or misdirected or whatever other excuse they will hear.

It’s an offensive situation but not a surprising turn of events. He sees Harry struggle with his formal tunic’s tiny pearl buttons and feels the guilt eat at him once more. Harry’s plans are deteriorating around him, his supporters scattered, his reputation damaged, and Draco is more than aware that he is in large part the catalyst of all these problems. The choices that are now costing Harry so much were choices the Alpha made because Draco pressured him into them but that is not what makes him feel the guilt. The sadness and remorse that dwell in him come from the clear, absolute knowledge that had he known the consequences of his requests, he would still have asked, demanded, and pressured for them; after all he had known perfectly well what the consequences would be. He does not _regret_ it, any of it. Even knowing the problems Harry now faces, the insults, the loss of support, the snickering, Draco still prefers it to not confronting Lestrange or loosing Harry to another Omega. Having tied Harry’s heart to him so absolutely that Harry has accepted a future with no Heirs is a victory for Draco, a bittersweet victory for sure, but a victory none the less.

However, seeing Harry angry, cornered, and losing control of the situation _hurts_. This is the inconvenience of loving someone, he supposes. Instead of enjoying his victory, his control over the actions of the powerful Alpha, he is angry on _Harry’s_ behalf. How _dare_ those spineless sycophants insult Harry! How dare they snub him, how dare they after he had fought for their interests facing Riddle on the Council floor time and time again, now discard him. How dare they! The spike in Draco’s anger makes Harry flinch ever so slightly as his damaged bond shoots pain though his head and Draco seeing the slight action feels even worse. Finding out that the bond is damaged on Harry’s side had terrified him, but fortunately, Severus had prescribed him a number of potions and they hope that in a few years the damage will be healed completely. When Draco thinks of the damage that Harry suffered, then he does consider that he might have made different choices but what’s done cannot be undone and they have to move forward.

“I’m sorry” he apologizes for the pain his emotional turmoil causes the Alpha as he moves from the bed and approaches him.

  
“You can’t stop having emotions to accommodate me” Harry mumbles as he continues to disrobe and for a moment they both consider the heavy truth hidden in that statement.

  
If Draco had been able to control his emotions in order to accommodate Harry’s plans, they would not be in the situation they are now.

  
“I didn’t mean that as it sounded” Harry says after a moment.

  
“I know.” Draco responds as his long fingers bury themselves in the Alpha’s dark hair and begin massaging his scalp softly.

Harry’s eyes fall shut for a moment as he enjoys the ministrations that seem to loosen the uncomfortable tightness that has been lingering around his temples all day.

  
Draco takes advantage of the opportunity to examine his husband without having the other’s gaze fixed on him. Like this, with his eyes shutting out the world Harry seems so…vulnerable, Draco can see the child he used to be despite the lines of exhaustion that now mark his features.

 _Wouldn’t it have been wonderful to have a child with the same dark hair, the same beautiful face, the same eyes…_ Draco shakes himself lightly to rid himself of the thoughts of what is not to be. He has made peace with the truth, even if sometimes wistfulness gets the better of him.

  
The sharp movement of the Omega makes the green eyes open again and focus on him. Draco is slightly disgusted by his reaction as his body tightens with want for the man before him and his mind is wiped clean of all other thoughts.

The Omega moves closer to the Alpha, both his hands sinking into the dark hair as he brings the other’s face close to his.

  
“I want you” he says slightly as if in confession and afraid of being overheard.

“Draco…” Harry says in the same tone.

“I always want you.” He whispers into the Alpha’s ear. The grey eyes close as he feels the lips graze his forehead before they dip down to the column of his neck.

“And I…I want…” The Omega breaths as he feels the lips burn a path from behind his ear to his collarbone.

“Tell me” Harry whispers into the heated skin under his lips.

“I want to be with you always. I want you to think of no one else. I want to be your focus” Draco confesses and these words truly embarrass him. He despises the neediness that they betray.

  
“You are.” Harry says as he moves both of them toward the bed. “You are my focus. Everything and everyone comes after you.” He says before he claims the Omega’s lips into a warm kiss.

“I know” Draco says when they part as he is slowly laid on the bed. “I know, but I’m greedy.” He continues smirking up at the Alpha that hovers a few inches from him.

  
His reply is answered by Harry’s smirk before the Alpha leans in and takes his mouth in another kiss. Draco feels his lips melt into the sensation; his lips part because it’s the most natural thing, and Harry invades his senses. The dance of their lips and tongues make the Omega arch up enough to slightly graze his nipples against the soft fabric or Harry’s tunic and he feels his entire body shiver at the sensation of the two tips becoming hard immediately. He attempts to bring the Alpha closer, pulling at his back with insistent hands, craving the weight of the other, the heaviness that makes his breath short and is the prelude of more pleasurable things to come. However, Harry refuses to move, to touch him with anything other than his lips.

“You are so greedy” Harry agrees returning to their conversation and Draco takes a moment to concentrate and remember what he is referring to.

 _“_ You always want so much” Harry says as he looks into grey eyes that look almost black in the shadows of early afternoon. Draco feels another shiver run through him at the close examination.

“And you like control, that’s why you hate your heats so much” Harry concludes.

“Harry—” Draco begins but is stopped by another kiss, just as slow, just as deep that leaves his lips shinning with moisture and make his pelvis arch seeking some friction and finding none.

“I will give you control, my Draco.” The Alpha says when they separate again. “You just need to tell me what you want, and I will tell you what I want. Does that sound fair?” Harry asks smiling at the obviously frustrated man lying under him.

Draco tries to bring the man closer again, but once more Harry does not budge.

“What do you want” Harry says and seeing the confusion in the Omega’s eyes leans in “tell me” he whispers.

“I…” Draco says but stops to breathe in the scent of arousal that has enveloped them, heavy and earthy, and it makes him want to transform and run and have Harry rut him in the woods like their first time, but also makes him too impatient for that.

“I want you to take this off” he finally says pulling at the tunic and the exasperating tiny pearl buttons.

“And I want you” he says as Harry moves to comply. Seeing the tan flesh that he craves reminds him to remove his own tunic, and Draco makes quick work of it pulling harshly at some of the fastenings until they come loose or rip.

Harry approaches the bed once more and admires the figure there for a moment, everything about him is mesmerizing. The long strands of almost white silk hair, the endless expanse of ivory skin, the beautifully aroused cock with the pink tip that matches the color of the pert nipples. But nothing is as mesmerizing as the Omega’s face, his eyes that can barely contain the wildness, the desire, and mischievousness that is Draco. The lips that smirk at him because they know that Harry will break in the end and lose his mind for the little Omega that has taken over his thoughts and destroyed any sense of peace Harry had managed to build into his life. It would be terrifying to know how much control he has lost. He would be terrified if he were not so stupidly in love with the chaos that is Draco.

“Harry” Draco says as he moves to the edge of to bed and runs his hands up muscular thighs over the Alpha’s abdomen and then back down. “I want to taste you” he says looking into the green eyes while his right hand finally caresses Harry’s shaft. The Omega begins by placing a kiss on Harry’s hip then licking the area.

“Draco” Harry chokes and the Omega turns his head just enough to make eye contact again.

  
“Will you let me taste you Harry? Do you want me to?” Draco asks submissively while his eyes laugh up at the Alpha, having turned the game around.

  
Harry smiles wolfishly at the sparkling eyes “If you would be so kind,” he says and he has barely uttered the words before he finds himself buried to the hilt in the warm cavern and “Gods!” he says as Draco relaxes his throat and Harry feels himself sink down Draco’s throat.

Draco begins to bob his head painfully slowly, humming and swallowing as much as he can around the shaft, often making choking sounds, but keeping Harry in place when the Alpha attempts to move away to allow him to breathe better. The Omega’s hands explore, moving lightly over the heated skin of his mate.

Draco feels fingers running up his nape and into his long hair. Harry moans as the pressure brings him to the edge only for the warm pressure to cease. The Alpha looks down to find the grey eyes pinned to his while long fingers hold onto his shaft. The Omega’s mischievous smile is gone, his skin glows golden pink from the heat of his arousal and the reflection of the sun’s final rays.

“What do you want, Draco.” Harry asks feeling trapped by the eyes in a surreal space were the creature before him is both achingly familiar and completely unknown, a mystery that is consuming his being.

In response, the Omega leans his head against the Alpha’s abdomen and slowly licks around his navel. Harry feels reason return somewhat as the eyes are hidden from his view.

“Come here” he says as he pushes the Omega’s face slightly away only to take his lips into a kiss once more.

  
In the next moment they find themselves in the center of the bed. Draco is not sure what sensation is stronger, the burning of his skin, the coiling desire within him, or the extent of his feelings in experiencing all with a person that fulfills his heart’s desires first. To have Harry is beyond anything that he ever imagined possible even within the perimeters of a bond, to need and yearn for a physical closeness that can barely satisfy the emotional need he has for the man he is sharing the last few glows of the burning sun with.

Draco’s breath starters as Harry enters him, his body seizes the intruding member for a moment and Harry’s groan of pleasure pulls a smile from the Omega before he loses himself to the sensation once more. Draco’s arms and legs come up to wrap around Harry, his lips kiss along the warm skin of the Alpha’s neck as the other moves within him. The sensation increases with the increasing speed; their shallow pants morph into moans and groans of pleasure in an ever continuing dance towards the peak.

Harry’s lips cover Draco’s and breathing is abolished for a while, the lack of oxygen intensifying the feeling of lightheadedness, of pressure to levels of almost pain.

“Harry!” Draco gasps when he pulls his mouth away to take a breath which is immediately expelled as the Alpha thrust into him in that moment.

  
Harry pulls up and Draco follows him; he sits on the Alpha’s lap taking him deeper and the pace drops, the peak is lost for now as the objective becomes to stay in the moment of full sensation as long as possible.

“It’s so much” Harry says as Draco sensually moves, his slowness intensifying every feeling.

  
“It’s so good” Draco responds a moment before he is dropped on his back again. Harry remains on his knees still buried to the hilt in the tight channel and the moment of enjoying the present is lost to the goal of reaching their climax. Harry’s movements speed up to a punishing pace, and Draco can barely scream as his breath is so short that he begins to hyperventilate. The Omega tries to steady himself, placing his hands against the carved headboard and digging in his heels into the soft sheets.

“So close, so close, just—just!” With a final shout the Omega loses himself arching his back as his body tightens all at once and then releases and endorphins flood through him. He hears Harry’s continued groans, feels the continued thrusts that make him shake being over-sensitized, and finally while he has barely recovered he feels the Alpha push one final time before the knot forms locking them together.

“That was a lovely performance if I say so myself” gasps Harry as he slowly falls next to the Omega taking care not to move abruptly as it would discomfort the other man who is still attached to him.

“Taking into consideration your ego, I should really not reply, but yes, that was one of our top twenty at least” Draco says with his eyes closed as he enjoys the absolute sense of relaxation that accompanies a good orgasm.

  
“Maybe we can try for the top ten in an hour or so” Harry mumbles as sleep claims him, but he hears Draco’s mumbled “absolutely” before he is lost to his dreams.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The airy room reflects the brilliancy of the sun’s rays superbly, painting the walls all shades from pink to the deepest orange. The cooling charms and the eerie beauty of the paintings give the room a sense of the mystical. All this goes quite unnoticed by the figures occupying the room however as they discuss what has brought them together in a space that Lord Riddle rarely ever allows anyone entrance, especially now that his dear lover is not by his side any longer.

“I understand your worries, such a situation is absolutely terrible for you…for your family” Riddle comments in response to the man’s previous statement.

  
“It is my Lord absolutely intolerable and disconcerting to know myself and my family to be in such a position totally without any intention on my part to lead us onto such a path, yet here we find ourselves, hopefully by your benevolence not completely lost.” The man responds with a look of both dejection and hope.

“Lost…” Riddle repeats and pauses long enough to make the elegant Alpha almost fidget, but not quite. The unflappable composure was the reason he has admired the man throughout the decades they have known one another. Although, it is clear that the composure always derived from a sense of eminent danger and thus a desire to be cautious, it is still an admirable skill that not many process even in the Noble ranks. After all, he could well recollect more than one Noble Alpha sniveling in fear before him.

“Lost… No, not lost if the sense of duty and honor have not abandoned you my dear friend” Lord Riddle finally replies.

“Of course not my Lord that is why I have come to you as soon as I could mange to discover the truth.”

“Have you?” Lord Riddle asks and the man looks him directly in the eye, pitch black meet steely gray.

“Of course my Lord. I should hope my loyalty is self-evident after all these years of support and service to you.” Replies the other Alpha.

  
“It is indeed, Lucius. I will do all in my power to assist you in recovering your son, and of course bringing justice upon the fugitive, Harry Potter.”


	22. Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. It has been too long and I am sorry for those that follow the story and have had to wait. My desire to continue has finally overcome the collosal writer's block I have been crushed under. And so, here is a short chapter as an early Christmas gift. Enjoy!

The heat and humidity in the Chamber are proving too much for the weakening cooling charms that are supposed to offer relief to the congregated Alphas. They have spent the entire morning trapped in the confined space, dressed in their long dark tunics, their eyes swinging back and forth as they turn this way and that way to hear this speaker and that speaker make the same arguments that this speaker or that other speaker made before them.

  
One honorable Lord after another rises and speaks their opinion about war, about conquest, about glory, and the most impertinent dare to mention defeat. High nobles sit stiffly in a semi-circle overlooking the speaker’s platform that is set lower in the center of the grand room. The room is designed much like an ancient Greek theater. Each noble who wishes can signal the orator by lifting a bright red clothe and the orator will announce them. Then the speaker must leave their uncomfortable sit, stepping into the side isle and make their way down to the floor where they must then turn to look up at all the other Lords and make their case. It’s an uncomfortable process as it was meant to be but today waiting for hours to speak, lifting an arm over and over waving the red clothe because the orator is ignoring them, and sitting in a warn chamber with thick traditional robes sticking suffocatingly to one’s body must be endured in order to determine the future of the country. A historic moment is at hand here and although much less glamorous than historians will present it to have been in manuscripts, the deliberation is still too important to allow physical discomfort to interfere.

  
Harry sits stiffly while Lady Burke solemnly takes the floor, the train of her heavy robes moving swiftly as she makes her way to the center and turns to face her peers. Harry feels himself tense as the eerie blue eyes examine the room. Lady Burke, the head of the Burke household, is the ruler over the Westernmost lands of the country. If anyone had something to say about the probability of war or the necessity of attacking their Western neighbors it would be the woman who shares a border with Verdean. Her words much more than the words of others would be considered reliable in determining what course of action is needed. This is not a consoling thought for Harry as he had little contact with the Western Lady, but had heard rumors that she aligned with Riddle very firmly. As soon as Lady Burke begun her speech, Harry knew the rumors had been more than accurate.

  
“My Noble Ladies and Lords, we have discussed much today about the future risks facing our great nation.” She begins in grave tones.

  
“However!” she intones fiercely. “The truth is that the risks we faced do not belong to the future but to our present. My lands suffer the constant threat of these enemies! Enemies I call them as they have behaved as such. Stealing, raiding, killing, raping across the Western lands until no amount of resistance and resources expended to stop them is enough. They see the value of our lands, our mines, our riches and will not stop until they have ripped our rightful wealth from us!”

  
The pause in the speech is met with enthusiastic applause and positive murmurs. Harry looks around and notices many Lords nodding in agreement while others look on with frowns but keep silent as they have nothing of substance to oppose Lady Burke with.

  
“I have spent the better part of five years dealing with daily trespasses, and straight out attacks, camps of Verdeans moving across the border and settling on our lands and then claiming it as rightfully theirs. We must stump down these conniving thieves, we must stop their expansion because believe me when I say, they will not be satisfied with attaining the western lands, they will not be satisfied until they invade every space and cranny of our country and like a poisonous disease spread throughout and destroy us all” Lady Burke concludes and a standing novation immediately follows the low bow she makes indicating that she has said her piece.

  
As the regal Lady moves to seat herself, the orator prepares to conclude the session, finally expecting that the nobles are ready to vote on a resolution or at least conclude this gathering for some food and refreshments. However, as he his fingers wrap around the handle of the heavy bell in preparation to ring it and signal the end of the session, he spies the glinting flash of multiple precious stones that are logged into numerous rings that happen to be attached to the fingers of a meaty hand that is leisurely waving a bright red cloth at him. The orator cannot help the twitch of annoyance that pulls downward at the right corner of his mouth as Lord Castor waves at him gently with a placid smile decorating his rotund and overly flushed face.

  
“The Honorable Lord Libeaus Castor of Dunthur takes the floor” the orator says with heavy dignity to contrast the Lord’s whimsical air.

  
“Oh! Thank you, thank you!” Lord Castor says to the orator loudly breaking custom as addressing the orator was typically not done.

  
As the aging noble makes his way slowly down the steps, grabbing the side bar firmly and taking one careful and leisure step after another with a smile for any who meets his eye on his way toward the speaking floor, more and more murmurs of annoyance are heard.

  
Harry watches with bemused exasperation, trying to reconcile the incomprehensible reality that Castor could be both as influential as he is and as easily dismissed as he is. Finally, Lord Castor makes it to the center and with flourish and speed that belies his previously slow and strenuous movements turns to examine the discontented nobles.

  
“Well” Lord Castor begins somewhat breathlessly. “Yes, yes, well said my dear Pearl. Well, ferocious as always. Yes, indeed! I remember how you’d growl when you were still a small pup always ferocious!” He enthuses to the sitting form of Lady Burke and receives a frown in return.

  
“Indeed…Our illustrious peer” Lord Castor continues turning his frame slightly towards the seat of Lord Riddle.

  
“Our illustrious peer has warned us about the plans and aspirations of our deceitful neighbors for many a year and now it seems, recognizing a moment of weakness, they are mounting their treacherous attack!” He yells, large arms raised above his head, rings glittering in the sun beans, before falling once more to his side after the exhausting movement.

  
For a moment there is puzzlement. Harry turns his attention to the nobles gathered in the chamber, many seem to be as lost as he is to the reason for Castor detaining them in the chamber.

  
“They have smelled the blood in the water perhaps” says the elder noble more calmly. “For, even if we wished to respond to such barbarous actions, we cannot. We do not have the capability especially not with the unstable situation we face in the north-west.”

  
The final words of Castor’s speech make many pause and look toward the dark figure sitting nonchalantly on the far right of the chamber, Lord Riddle. Even the most powerful of all can never cower all to their will. The northwestern Lands, once had been the seat of the Potter family and many others whose names are but carvings on gravestones now. Once the Clash was over, most of the lords that had ruled the North and North West were dead and the spoils of the war went to Riddle’s supporters. The exploitation was brutal, the taxes, the military drafts that took most able bodied men away leaving their families to starve in the harsh winters. Over time that area became darker, more dangerous, a pool of human misery and human anger. For many years it was impotent anger, the resentment of the defeated and subjugated, the bitterness of the abused, ridiculed, and humiliated. It became a place that most forgot about and in that action, in forgetting, Lord Riddle committed his greatest of errors. Two decades of forced recruits to the military from the North Western regions had been slowly but surely making their way back home. No one noticed much at first, but slowly and surely enough trained soldiers returned to the area with their weapons in hand and suddenly the anger that festered did not need to be impotent any longer. Militias sprung up everywhere, groups that know warfare and the area and thus hide in the surrounding mountains where Southern soldiers cannot follow. In the past six years the situation has become truly stressing on the military that has attempted to bring the rebels to heal.

  
Despite Lord Riddle’s best efforts that region has sank into chaos. The military is effectively barred from the region, emerging Merchant class demagogues leading one rebellion after another, the result has been a weakening of the military and the resources of the country as the rich producing lands have remained uncultivated and the mountain mines’ gold is used to fuel the rebellions. Despite the absolute failure that any attempt to subdue the area has been, no one has ever mentioned the issue openly, well no one mentioned the issue openly in the presence of Lord Riddle.

  
Lord Castor stands calmly, examining one shiny button cuffing while everyone else awaits Lord Riddle’s response. A simple and slight nod is all they receive from the Lord before their attention is reverted to Lord Castor.

  
“Being as we are quite in a conundrum considering one of, what used to be, most productive regions of our country, now a pit of chaos, it is hard to see how we are to respond to the Verdean challenge.” Castor stops for a moment his eyes sharp and speculative as he examines the sitting lords.

  
“How are we to win a war against a superior army with a depleted military, a shortage of soldiers, and without controlling the largest iron producing provinces of our country?” Once more he stops.

  
“Defeat awaits the one who delivers a weak blow. If we are to fight, lets fight to win and to win we need the North by our side.” With that final word, Lord Castor makes an extravagant bow as if to soften the direness of his voice with the whimsical movement, thus consoling the lords who are now awake to a more dire danger than they had previously perceived.

  
The uncomfortable warmth of the room is replaced by a chill of apprehension as each lord attempts to look without staring at the face of Lord Riddle and discern the reaction of this man. Has Castor finally overstepped the dangerous line; is he beyond the slight benevolence with which Riddle treats other nobles and as such effectively dead?

  
“Our illustrious Lord Castor offers us today the wisdom that is needed in those that intent to rule in prosperity and not in ruin” flow the soft tones of Lord Riddle’s baritone voice.

  
“Verdean is a threat only because we are weak and cannot face them in our weakness.” Comments calmly the Lord as he rises from his seat and all other lords await in suspense. “So, I ask my noble peers, what are we to do? What sacrifice is necessary, or whose sacrifice?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Once the heavy door of the Black manor closes behind him, Harry allows his shoulders to slouch, his spine tired of holding up the weight that feel to be so much more than muscle and bone.

  
His eyes itch and he can feel a slow rolling pain at the side of his temple that tells him Draco who is making the rounds with his mother is irritated enough that his emotions are surpassing the numbing power of Snape’s potions.  
The potions have been helpful in numbing the pain and over time are supposed to restore his core; however, Harry would appreciate them more if they did not make him continuously nauseous and slightly sleepy, hence the constant itching in his eyes. He does not have time or patience for such discomforts when the world seems to be crumbling around him, he thinks while making his ways to the library.

  
The large and musty room has become his new office since the very thought of his study where Draco almost lost his life is more than enough to keep him away from the room.

  
Entering the library, Harry finally sinks into an armchair. His body is restless however he has no immediate purpose toward which to direct the energy. He is not sure what or who to work with or against in Council, even Lucious appearing distant, more so than their supposedly adversarial public relations necessitate. Castor is dancing to a beat of his own that no one seems to really comprehend but all slightly fear, and Riddle remains perfectly weded to the metaphor of his name with no one knowing when he will act or in which way.

  
For a moment, Harry allows himself to contemplate his mistakes among them the most glaring of not mating with Blaise. The consequences of that decision seem to never stop hounding him. Lady Zabini now is aligning with Lady Burke and potentially arranging for a match between Blaise and Burke’s heir Sebastian. The union of Blaise with him or any other Alpha will further bring into question Harry’s legitimacy as legal guardian of Aaron since the argument can be easily made that Aaron should be either under the guardianship of the Nott family or of Blaise’s new mate.

“I should have mated him” he whispers in the silence of the room. As his head falls back into the cushion. So many errors, so, so many, he thinks.

  
As he lifts from his seat he feels the pressure of the wards as someone stands outside asking for entrance. Before Harry can determine who it is, he feels the pressure increase and a noise like a knife’s edge running over a glass surface assaults him, the teeth grinding noise making his sensitive ears ring.

  
“What the—” is all he has time to utter before he feels the wards falling like a shredded curtain.

  
Harry quickly pools his magic around himself intent on lifting the wards once more but finds his ability to do so blocked by an unmovable weight. He pushes and pushes, sweat soon running down his forehead as his magic fights like a small child trying to push away a stone wall that is collapsing on top of him.

“Fuck!” He yells and directs the magic towards the four ancient stones carved with runes that sit on four corners at the fringes of the Black property and activates their defenses. He feels whoever entered the property resist for a moment before they are forcefully pushed out.

  
Harry breathes only a moment’s sigh of relief before he feels more pressure attack the new wards. After attempting to apparate and failing he quickly collects all the documents he can get his hands on and incedios all of it without paying attention to what they contain.

  
He chants the incantations that make the manor invisible and attempts to activate the spell that would make it unplotable but almost staggers to a holt as he feels power push against his spells, an entire ocean crashing onto his stone wall of spells and washing all of it away.

  
Determinedly, Harry runs out of the library and into his despised study and with what remains of his magical power sets the entire room ablaze destroying the beautiful wood furniture, ancestral paintings, and many many documents that would ensure a hanging sentence for him and countless others.

  
The room is a furnace, yellow and orange and heat, just as it was in the Nott manor and the Potter manor. For that moment, as the final defenses fall away tired and defeated, Harry is mesmerized by the colors and the heat. What would such an embrace feel like, he wonders as he distantly hears the double doors of the manor's entrance crush open. The inferno blazes, brighter and more fiercely as items are consumed in it. Harry watches the apotheosis of the flame as it consumes even as he hears the echoes of booted feet, many of them, hitting the hardwood floor with impunity making their way toward him.

He has escaped two fires in his life Harry considers as one man and then another and then three more make their way around the corner to the hall in which he stands. He had always run away from the fire in terror, even in his nightmares. However, in this single precious moment he feels no fear, only a longing for a promised bright, blinding end.

“Harry Potter” a voice calls.


	23. Dancing With An Enemy I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. It has been so long but the fic is not abandoned. To those that have commented, I would like to thank you for your support. I hope you all enjoy this soooo long delayed chapter and promise to upload again within the year :/...

Draco stands at the grand corridor of the Medrik household as Lady Yanne Medrik the third mate of Lord Medrik stands a few steps away ready to send him on his way and liberate him from the ennui of her company.

As he waits for his turn to give the Lady his compliment and leave, Draco looks around once more searching for even a hint of his mother’s lilac dress.

“Where is that woman” he wonders, a frown curving across his brow.

“Lord Black?”

“My Lady Medrik, forgive my distraction. I’m searching for my mother.” He responds before giving the Lady the prefatory hug.

“I believe the Lady Adrienne was bidding her farewell” responds the Lady pointing towards Lord Medrik’s first mate.

“Indeed” he says smiling. “Thank you for inviting me, it was an honor.” He says as he smiles winningly.

“The honor is ours, my Lord Black.” Responds the lady with a shallow bow.

Draco quickly bows just a tad more shallowly in return and moves to the sunny lit double doors promising him freedom.

As soon as he passes through, he begins to concentrate on the imposing entrance of the Black Manor. Soon enough, Draco finally feels the pull of apparitation but not centered around his belly bottom but instead from his side, his elbow in fact.    

Draco opens his eyes before the world stops spinning around him. The disorientation makes him stumble but the pressure on his elbow is there supporting him gently. He looks around and quickly recognizes the magnificent painting of a pack of snow white wolves with golden eyes some staring back at him and some howling at the silver moon painted above them. Beneath the grand painting titled the Malfoy Clan stand two armchairs to which his mother quickly leads him.

“Mother” he says as he finally turns to look at the woman holding him close.

“Darling sit down” she says as she tries to push him into a sit but he refuses to move.

“What’s going on? Why did—”

“I know this is sudden love but right now you need to stay here with me and your father” she interrupts and leads him again towards an armchairs.

Draco feels even more confused as he looks around his luxurious bedroom that he had abandoned the day he was married into the Lestrange household.

“What is going on? What do you know?” He asks his mother.

“I know that you are in danger and here is the safest place for you…for now at least.”

“And Harry?” Draco says feeling a pressure building inside him, something is terribly wrong with his mate, he knows that as well as he knows he needs to help him. Suddenly, he is filled with urgency, the necessity to act immediately.

“Right now you cannot do anything to help Harry and if you follow him he would only have to worry about you amongst everything else” she says.

“Follow him where? What is going on? Where is Harry?!” He yells refusing to sit down and attempting to walk around his mother and out of the room.

“Draco!” She says as she follows him out the room and down the winding staircase.

“Draco, please stop this! We do not have time for panic” she says as she rushes to catch up, but to no avail as the younger Omega only speeds up his pace.

Draco rushes down the stairs and makes a sharp turn towards his father’s study only to find it empty. Turning around, he finds his way blocked by the man himself.

“Draco—”

“What is happening?” He demands.

“You will stay here for now while I make arrangements” Lucius tells to his agitated son.

“What is happening with Harry?!” Draco yells not allowing his father to dismiss him.

“Draco do not screech in such a manner” his father says as he examines his son. “…you will stay here, no apparating, no contacting anyone.  Any attempt you make to leave this house will be blocked. I suggest you wait calmly preferably in your chamber until arrangements are made.”

“I am not a child you can sent to bed whenever you want” Draco replies. “You expect me to sit here while I have this, this” he stumbles for a word while his fingers dig deep into his stomach where his anxiety seems to be centered.

“I am sure right now you feel very stressed. However, there is nothing that you can do to change the situation”

“If you tell me what is going on I might even agree with you! But, I don’t know and I can’t even breathe right now without feeling like my chest is caving in, so please, father please!”

Lucius Malfoy was never a patient man and despite the affection he feels for his son, he found it difficult to withstand his stubbornness.

“Harry might have indulged your behavior Draco, but I shall not do so. You have in large part created this situation and had you had an Alpha capable of checking your impulses none of this would be necessary.”

“What are you—”

“Your mate has been arrested as it has come to the attention of the Council that he infiltrated the highest levels of our governing body under false pretenses as a Black heir—”

“No, that can’t—”

“Infiltrated the Council when he is in fact an impostor, a Potter, who faces charges of treason and fraud—”

“Shut up! That’s not true! That—”

“Draco, please…what you father says is true” his mother says as she slowly approaches him hand extended in supplication for calm.

Draco completely ignores his mother in favor of trying to understand how this could have happened so suddenly. He ignores her pleas in favor of examining his father who stands there relating these news with a vindictive calmness that Draco cannot assimilate.

“Where do they have him?” He asks after a moment, needing now with desperation to know where his mate is.

“Where would they hold a dangerous enemy of the state?” His father responds.

Draco feels his world tilt, the Turrent dungeons. They put him in the Turent to await execution like they did with all the other Potters who were captured and condemned over twenty years before. _All_ the Potters were executed, _all_ including the spouses, the mates which would include….

“They should have come for me too.” He concludes looking at his father. “Why aren't they're here? Why haven’t they come here looking for me or you?” He says staring at the man.

“They are not coming.”

That is all Draco needs to hear his father say to know that Lucius has made _arrangements_ for him that did not include Harry, arrangements which meant…his father knew the arrest would happen before hand.

“ _You_ told them” he whispers more to himself than anyone else, there is no need for confirmation and there cannot be any negation.  

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Oh goodness…well there is certainly no reason for that” says the unusually subdued voice of Lord Castor as his eyes land on Draco’s form sitting in an armchair under the imposing Malfoy Clan painting in the imposing Malfoy heir’s bedchamber.

The Omega did not bother turning to look at the intruder that has come to invade his solitude. His eyes remained turned toward the window that was mocking him, mocking his every attempt to escape his childhood home which in the past three days had become his prison. The irony is not lost on him. There was a time that Harry was the prison and his father was freedom and protection, family loyalty…roles now reversed in what to Draco feels is a mockery of all the things he had hoped for.

“Really, now…here my dear” says the old Alpha as he approaches the armchair, soft silk handkerchief held gingerly between bejeweled fingers extended towards the sitting Omega who makes no move to accept the offering.

“Wipe your lip child, the blood will stain your shirt…” 

“Since you have been granted access to see me, I assume you know more than you will admit as you usually do Lord Castor.” Says the Omega once more ignoring the handkerchief but finally looking into the opaque eyes of the man.

“Today I don’t have the patience to entertain your guessing games, why are you here?”

The Alpha lowers his arm and slowly turns to make his short way to the other armchair and sits himself in it.

“You attacked your father I gather? Your wounds seem to be shallow enough that I assume he was defending himself rather than attacking you…?”

“Should I write him a thank you note?” Draco asks him with a cool smile that pulls at the skin of his split lip making it bleed more, the blood and the dark bruises on his jaw and temple contrasting starkly with his paleness.

“I understand your anger, Draco—”

“Doubtful.”

“And yet child, I used to have the energy for anger once, just the years…but I remember in general terms how it felt.” He finishes only to see the Omega was not at all amused.

“Well…what if I said that I can grant you access to the person you most need to see?”

At this Draco’s interest is finally peaked and he turns his full attention toward the man and the hand that is extended between the two armchairs once more reaching towards him, this time however holding an intricately designed large silver coin.

“Why would you help me and why would my father allow you to help me?” Draco asks without reaching for the portkey.

The man smiles for a short moment. “Do not assume that because it causes pain an action is not beneficial. The healer might hurt you in order to save you, as I’ve been told you have personally experienced.” He says still holding the coin.

“It will activate in a couple of hours…” he adds.

“What is the purpose of all this? My father knows you are doing this…”

“Draco…your young man is determined, I’ll give him that. However, even you my dear must see that the boy has put himself in a corner as it were. Too many impulsive moves, many for your sake…” at this Draco’s eyes drop momentarily as he acknowledges his own role in the developments of the past months and all the problems that now they face because of it.   

“You have been a supremely foolish child and having known you before you presented, having heard you argue before your Omega status bared you entry from all the political meetings, I am inclined to believe that it was not all accidental. You took a bet, serval I’d say, and you were betting on your mate’s life you must have known that. If no one intervened, you would have lost that bet boy.” Lord Castor finishes sternly.

“Sometimes knowing doesn’t stop us from acting.” Draco almost chocks out inadvertently.

“Indeed, but somehow all this mess needs to be cleaned up. Now, what do you know about our little problem in the North?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco examines his face carefully in the mirror for the hundredth time reassuring himself that all the bruises are gone and the cut on his lip has healed perfectly not leaving the flesh even slightly puffy. His father always employed the best healers so the potions he used were of the best quality; he knows this, but still he could not help one more glance toward his face before examining his tunic once more to ensure that the heavy dark grey fabric sits perfectly on his shoulders and cascades down his body without creasing. All the while his fingers clutch the coin sitting in his palm.

He turns his back to the mirror to examine the clock on the wall to his left, soon the portkey will activate, maybe sooner than he is ready for.

“Place one more bet” he whispers remembering Castor’s final words. He needed to do this right, lives that mattered depended on it.

He looks at the coin once more. His father had come up earlier to speak to him about…everything but Draco could not listen to anything he had to say, not yet. He understood that Lucius acted in the best interest of his own and he did not consider Harry one of his own. He understands this, but Harry is _Draco’s_.

“Not the time!” He admonishes his reflection, pulling himself together and pushing thoughts of his parents to the back of his mind to be examined later.

His breath stutters as he feels the coin warm up he has a split second to realize that it's finally happening before he is pulled into nothingness only to reappear an instant too short, too fast in another place, a truly beautiful and airy foyer. Draco stands carefully still, his eyes follow the play of light on the wall across the windows for a moment as he steadies his breathing insistently thinking only of the light and its constancy, its indifference to the concerns of man. In a moment he hears steady steps and soon he sees a young male Omega, no more than twenty years in age approach him. The young servant bows deeply in show of respect a light smile gracing his lips and total cheerfulness shining through his calm brown eyes. Draco hates him with all his being in that moment before he can reign in his feelings.

“My Lord Malfoy, my master is expecting you in the parlor if you would follow me please.”

A short nod of agreement later Draco is quickly directed to the parlor entrance. He does not hesitate when the servant stops at the double doors, Draco continues past him until he stands almost in the center of the room where he comes face to face with the tall finger standing there.

“Young Malfoy.” Says the man before indicating a seat for Draco to take.

“My Lord Riddle” Draco says bowing slightly before taking the offered sit slowly.

“I was informed by your sire that you wished to have an audience with me after the apprehension of your…mate.” Riddle says as he also sits himself across from the young Omega.

“I understand that the situation must be distressing to you, to discover such…treachery in the one you were _forced_ to bind yourself to.” Riddle considers as he leans further into hi seat, arms resting lightly upon the arm rests.

“The bond was forced; however, a bond now exists” is Draco’s reply.

“Of course and the bond compels you to come here and appeal for clemency…?”

“My Lord Riddle—”

“I am sorry, but you realize that I cannot grant young Potter his freedom. The laws are the laws, and ultimately it is the Council that will make a determination.” Riddle interrupts his eyes heavy lidded with apathy.

Draco opens his lips to speak but is stopped again as the man waves long fingers in a come in movement and Draco waits as the servant walks into the parlor and lowers a heavy tray onto the low table before him and begins the preparations required to serve the fragrant tea.

Both highborns sit in silence as delicate china is filled with a greenish liquid and the smell of mint fills the room with its freshness. I dollop of honey from the South is added to each cup, then the crystal stir which brightly reflects a multitude of colors when hit directly by sunlight is used to mix the tea and honey. Riddle follows each movement almost entranced by the procedures while Draco examines him as covertly as he can. Finally, the servant offers the first cup to Draco with the same cheery smile he greeted him when he arrived at the mansion.

Draco accepts the offering and waits patiently while Riddle receives the other cup.

“Thank you, Aream” says Riddle and the servant stands proudly a moment giving Riddle a deep bow before leaving the room.

Despite the overwhelming desire to speak immediately, Draco forces himself to take a sip while Riddle does the same.

“Excellent tea, Lord Riddle.” He says having no idea what the brew tasted like.

“Yes, Lord Elsie produces the best varieties of mint-long tea.” Replies Riddle as he takes another sip.

After a few more moments spent in respectful contemplation of Elsie’s tea, Draco takes up the subject again.

“My lord Riddle, you understand that whether forced or not, my bond compels my concern for my mate.”

“Understandable, even if he is a Potter.” The other man replies eyes finally zeroing on the young Omega.

Draco feels a little off balance with the sudden scrutiny he receives but continues undeterred.

“He was only a child when the Potters acted as treacherously as they did. Surely, the Council will not make him pay for the offenses of others who are long dead.”

“That is for the Council to deliberate upon.” Says the man taking another sip of his cup, his eyes always considering the young Omega.

“And even so, his current actions are damning enough…usurping the right claim of a noble family…in the eyes of many this is as heinous an offense as the one committed by his sire.”

“But we are the family against whom such offense was committed, should we request leniency should it not be granted?” Responds Draco.

“Whether or not your family took offense is not relevant, the crime was still committed and an example should be made of the individual, would you not agree?”

“In general terms yes…”

“But not in the case of _your_ mate…” fills in the Alpha with a slight smile.

“Not in a case were so much good can come out of mercy” continues Draco.

Riddle tilts his head to the side indicating for Draco to continue sensing that the Omega has come to the point of his visit.

Draco takes what he hopes is a discreet deep breath and begins the argument that will determine his future and Harry’s.

“The Clash has left a deep scar across our country. We have not recovered from it. Harry is in a way a representative of much of the country that feels that their futures were ripped away from them by the violence. He usurped the position of Black heir because he wanted to be a lord again and knew he could never claim his own title. He only wanted back the life he would have had had our country not suffered through the Clash.”

“His father was one of the masterminds of the violence…isn’t it fair that his son pay the price?”

“No one controls who they are born to” Draco calmly replies. “There are so many like him, who are left behind, who supported the wrong side, many who in Harry’s redemption would see their own possibility of redemption…How many people across the country and especially in the North would see this as _their_ opportunity to return to the fold. The grand magnanimity of the Council in showing mercy to this person, of allowing him to restore his family, take his family seat, give the people of his region reason to believe in the Council once more…”

Riddle observes the Omega silently for a few moments. Slowly he takes a last sip of his tea before putting the cup down on the low table between them.

“Your mate wished for the life of a noble badly enough to commit a crime of such magnitude?”

“He wanted what he believes to be his birthright. He could not stand being seen as a Merchant class or worse a mercenary when he was born to so much more. How could he not feel cheated when he was reminded every day of his station? His magic reminds him always that he was a noble living among peasants.”

Draco tries to show how painful such a fate would have been as much as possible. Any Noble class could sympathize with such a situation. Collectively the Noble class held a view of disdain and disgust for the lower classes that even the slight possibility of being trapped within their folds could certainly account for many a crime. Riddle, however, remains unimpressed.

“The lower classes live and die like any other creature in this world. Their lives are not unworthy of the son of a traitor, they might lack his magic but many have more dignity than many nobles could hope to master. Potter should have felt grateful he was allowed to exist in their mists instead of attempting to return to a plane in which there is no longer a place for him” replies Riddle his slight smile from before completely gone, his dark eyes hard with conviction.   

“Would any other Noble accept such fate? Would you accept such a fate my Lord?” Draco dares to question.

For moment silence reigns as they both consider that the fates of the Potters and the Riddles could have as easily been reversed. It could as easily have been the Potters who were called the patriots and the Riddles traitors. Such is the fickleness of war, and the winners write history.

“Impossible to say” says Riddle, the smile re-appearing as he leans back into his chair and crosses his long legs. “So he wished to recover the life…”

“He wants to belong…he wants the past to be the past. It’s maybe the best for all of us if the past becomes the past and we can look toward the future as a united country. We have challenges that we can best confront as a united front don’t you think?”

Suddenly Riddle throws his head back and laughs, deep chuckles escaping his lips. “You remind me of your aunt, insistent in your point to the last no matter who you argue against” he says.

Draco smiles winningly, “thank you” he replies taking the comment as the compliment that it is.

“You’re welcome” the Alpha replies. “Now, let’s put these points so charmingly argued plainly on the table…You are suggesting that granting leniency to Potter would send a positive message to the North and that Potter himself could bring the northern troops back into the fold so that we could present a united front against the Verdeans” Riddle reiterates.

“Yes, he can retake the north” Draco insists.

“What happens if he fails?”

“Do you have a better candidate available my Lord? As I understand every reagent has abused their power, worked many of the miners to death, stolen crops, and taxed the region to the point of decimation. I doubt the northerners will trust any reagent sent to them…Harry would be different, he is their lawful lord, and he considers it a responsibility to care for the people of the north.”

“That may be so…but the militias have held control over the north for years, I doubt they will simply relinquish it for…sentimental reasons to a young boy.”

“Ancestral magic will leave them with little option. The Potters have ruled the north for centuries, their magic is tied to the land, few would be able to wristband to attraction both emotional and magical of submitting and Harry’s natural magic core is strong, vibrant. There might be some resistance but it would not last.” Draco suggests.

“You make a compelling case, my dear lord…Draco” Riddle admits. “I’d love to discuss the topic more, however, my duties call” he says as he raises from the chair and Draco is forced to relinquish his seat as well, clearly being dismissed.

Draco makes a shallow bow. “Thank you for your time my Lord,” he says and bites his lip to keep from begging the man to free Harry or starting to argue again.

“It was a pleasure my dear, really” says the Alpha as the happy servant reappears at the door to lead Draco on his way out.

Draco manages to walk calmly behind the other Omega not truly seeing where he is lead until he finds himself back at the foyer ready to apparate away. He considers returning to the Malfoy manor but decides instead to concentrate on the field that surrounded the small cottage in a small coastal village where all of this started for him. Soon, he is gone.


End file.
